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The District Attorney 



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COPYRIGHT, 1889. BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 



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The District Attorney 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts 



By 
ORRIN E. WILKINS 



Originally produced by The Weldon Cluh^ in Highland Hall^ 

Roxbury^ Mass.^ May j, /p/^, under the direction 

of the author and Mr. Harry H. Briggs 



NOTE 

This play may be performed by amateurs free of royalty and without 
express permission. The professional stage-rights are, however, strictly 
reserved, and performance by professional actors, given in advertised places 
of amusement and for profit, is forbidden. Persons who may wish to produce 
this play publicly and professionally should apply to the author in care of 
the publishers. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
1912 



The District Attorney 

rs43r 

CHARACTERS -^^^ W^^ 

Mr. Wm. Seabury, Pres. of Seabury Pack- 
ing Co P' B' Phinney. 

Mr. Herbert Brownell, reporter of the 

' ' Tribune, " yokn E. Harvey. 

Richard Seabury, senior at college . . Edwin C. Archibald. 

Bob Kendrick, a fixture at the university . Orrin E. Wilkins. 

Billy K'^Y^oi.Yi^, freshman at college . Guy Hubbard. 

P. Homer S\51Aav h.-^, politician . . . Albert F. FedeL 

John J. Crosby, district attorney, running 

for reelection Stanley Maclnnis. 

Jim M IE, Ojffice boy Ernest Pickett. 

Howard Calvert, Beverly's little brother . Douglas Addie. 

Sam, Calvert's butler Henty D. Povall. 

Aunt Hattie, Wm. Seabury s sister . . Bertha Sands. 

Dorothy Seabury, Wjn. Seabury s 

daughter Marion Sawyer. 

Beverly Calvert, ] f Violet French. 

Peggy Marshall, \ Dorothy s chums . \ Gretchen Rose, 

Polly Whitney, J ( Florence Sinith. 

Margaret, servant Grace Lawson. 



SYNOPSIS 

Act I. Drawing-room of the Seabury residence. 

Act H. The district attorney's office, a few months later. 

Act hi. Same as Act I, one year later. 

Time. — Present. 

Place. — Chicago. 




Copyright, 191 2, by Orrin E. Wilkins 
As author and proprietor 

Professional stage-rights reserved 
/ 

©CID 31693 TMP92-007487 



CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERISTICS 

*'The District Attorney" was written especially for amateurs. 
The author has kept in mind the scenic and stage Umitations of the 
ordinary amateur club. The properties are few and simple, and 
the costumes such that any group of young people either have or 
can easily procure. As the play has been produced three times 
and rewritten twice, all useless and unimportant speeches and parts 
have been omitted, with the result that each character offers an 
opportunity limited only by the time and study one is wiUing to put 
into it. In view of this the author feels that a word about each 
character will not be amiss. 

Margaret. — An ordinary type of servant that is often seen upon 
the professional stage. Of medium height, about twenty-three years 
old, courteous in manner and speech. She wears a plain black 
dress with white tea apron and cap, 

Wm. Seabury. — A dignified, prepossessing business man of 
about fifty. Quick in speech and manner and inclined to be rather 
curt. He is ever aware of the dignity of his position and the power 
that is his. He is one who is always sure of himself even at his 
last exit in Act II. He does not show the white feather, but knows 
exactly what course he is to pursue. In each act he wears a plain 
dark business suit, adding an overcoat and derby in Act II. 

Herbert Brownell. — A breezy reporter whose chief business 
is to get news. He must be quick of speech and portray to his 
audience that he is able to take advantage of every httle clue or 
point that will lead up to a newsy story for his paper. On the other 
hand he must not give the impression that he is bold or forward. 
He must not be over twenty-five years of age. In Acts I and II 
he makes a change of ordinary street clothes, adding an over- 
coat and derby in Act II. In Act III he wears a suit of dark 
clothes or a dress suit. 

Aunt Hattie. — A middle-aged woman about forty-five. One 
who has taken upon herself the duties and responsibilities of the 
home. She is both aunt and mother to Dorothy and Dick. The 
character offers a chance to show home love and home ties. She 
is a sort of go-between for Dick, Dorothy and Mr. Seabury. Her 
costume in Act I is a neat, simple house dress, and she carries 
knitting. In Act II, an afternoon walking-suit with hat, gloves and 
veil. In Act III an evening gown. 

Dorothy Seabury. — She should be a young lady of athletic 
build, possessing a stylish appearance, and be pleasing in manner 
and voice. She is about twenty-five years old and must be able to 
rise to the occasion in Act I where she describes the football game. 
In Act I her left arm is in a sling. She wears in Act I a stylish 

3 



4 CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERISTICS 

house dress ; in Act II a walking-suit with furs, large hat and 
gloves ; in the first part of Act III an afternoon dress, and in the last 
part an evening gown. 

Richard Seabury. — A young man of twenty-one years of age. 
The world owes him a hving and he's out to collect it. His idea 
is that all events that he comes in contact with are arranged for 
his particular pleasure and ends. He, like all the young men of 
the play, should be breezy and snappy. Any person who portrays 
a college character in any but a snappy way deserves the criticism 
of the audience. His clothes should be of the college cut, em- 
phasized by bright ties, socks and handkerchiefs. In Acts I and II 
an ordinary suit, adding in Act II automobile-coat, goggles, hat 
and gloves. In Act III, a dress suit. 

Bob Kendrick. — In Act I, a young man without any definite 
purpose in life other than football. He must be of stocky build, 
about twenty-six years old, and should be of opposite complexion 
to the girl lead. After he arouses himself in the latter part of Act I, 
all his acting must be done in a forceful, determined manner. He 
is a gentleman and handles his strong scenes and situations with 
the control born of good breeding. His costumes should be of the 
styles of Dick's in Act I, with sweater and college paraphernalia 
and suit-case. In Act II it should give way to a dark business 
suit, derby and overcoat, and dress suit in Act III. 

Billy Reynolds. — Pleasingly plump, the fatter the better. He 
is the butt of all jokes, who takes life as if it was forced upon him 
and he had to make the best of it. When he speaks of love it is 
with the fire of a foreigner. At other times he should be slow and 
dehberate of speech. He wears a walking-suit in Act I, adding 
automobile-coat, goggles, hat and gloves in Act II, and a dress suit 
in Act III. 

Beverly Calvert. — Dorothy's older girl friend. Of Southern 
birth and about twenty-five years of age. As a Southerner she is 
always conscious of the dignity of her position and somewhat re- 
served. She wears in Act I an ordinary walking-suit with hat and 
gloves. In the first part of Act III, a simple house dress. In last 
part bride's dress. 

Peggy Marshall and Polly Whitney. — Dorothy's younger 
girl friends, about eighteen or nineteen years old, frivolous, whim- 
sical, impulsive, overrunning with life. Each should be as much 
like the other as if they were twins. They should be of the same 
height, build and complexion. Their costumes are such as are 
suited to their age and temperament ; a Norfolk suit with a waist 
having frills and laces in Acts I and II, and an evening gown in 
Act III. 

P. Homer Sullivan — About forty-five years of age. He speaks 
with a slight Irish brogue. He is the boss, and he knows it, and 
wants everybody else to know it. He should be of good height 
and build. One who can smoke long and fast, quick, impulsive, 
almost insulting in his manner, but who pretends to be a gentle- 



CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERISTICS 5 

man. This character is one of the most important in the whole 
play. His clothes throughout the play can be built loose and loud. 
A red tie and green vest under a checkered suit is suggested for 
Act I ; something along the same nature for Act II, with a tall hat 
and overcoat. In Act III his clothes should be less loud and his 
manner less offensive. 

John J. Crosby. — An ordinary type of a disappointed pohtical 
aspirant. About thirty-two years old, light moustache, of slight 
build and medium height. While he knows what he wants to do, 
he is not dead sure of his ground ; particularly is this true in his 
scenes with Sullivan. Until just before his exit he adds determina- 
tion to his speech. In Act I he wears a business suit, with change 
in Act II. 

JiMMiE. — About sixteen years old. A hard guy, whose chief 
ambition is dime novels, cigarettes and ball games. He wears a 
light blouse with short trousers. 

Howard Calvert. — Beverly's young brother, about ten or 
twelve years old. Care should be taken not to have this character 
too old. It is the part of a httle boy and should be played as such. 
He should be bright but not forward. In first part of act he should 
wear an ordinary school suit, with change in the last part to a dress- 
up suit. 

Sam. Calvert's colored butler. A retiring darkey, of middle 
age, who laughs long and loud. He should use negro dialect and 
totter when he walks. He wears an ordinary butler's livery. 

As this is a college play, in Act I college sweaters for the boys, 
with football suits, flags, pennants and flyers for the girls, will add 
to the play. 

"The District Attorney" is different from other plays in that 
while elaborate scenery, costumes and stage settings add to it the 
same as to other plays, they are not absolutely essential and must 
be determined in each individual case by the facilities at hand and 
the expense to which the producing club wishes to go, the price 
ranging from twenty dollars when produced in a church to one 
hundred and thirty dollars at, say, Potter Hall, in Boston. The 
only property that might cause difficulty is the telephone, which 
can be borrowed from any telephone company without cost upon 
application from a telephone subscriber. 



The District Attorney 



ACT I 

SCENE. — Interior. Well-furnished reception-room with 
piano. Three openi7igs, L., r. and c. Window between L. 
and c. opening. 

(^Door-bell at rise of curtain ; Margaret enters L.) 

Voices (heard off stage). Northwest University. Rah ! 
Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Northwest University. Rah \ Rah I 
RAh ! Rah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! University ! University ! 
Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! 

{Door-bell rifigs. Mar. runs to window. General cheer- 
ing in the distance. ) 

Mar. Gee 1 Look at those boys ; they're starting to cele- 
brate already. (Walks down stage.') Well they might, for 
the Northwestern University has got the best team they ever 
had. Golly, don't I wish I was a man ; I'd work like the old 
Harry to get on the football team, and if I did, I'd fight like 
the dickens to make that Michigan crowd look like a bunch of 
lemons. (^Door-bell rings again. Exit Mar., c. Short 
pause. Mr. Wm. Seabury enters from r., crosses to l. In- 
terrupted by Mar. at c.) Mr. Seabury, a gentleman to see 
you. 

Mr. S. What does he want ? 

Mar. I don't know, sir ; he wouldn't tell me the nature of 
the business. Said something you should know about. 

Mr. S. What is he ? A middle-aged man ? 

Mar. No, sir ; young. Quite good looking. 

Mr. S. Wouldn't tell you what he wanted, eh ? 

Mar. No, sir. 

Mr. S. Well, perhaps you had better show him in. 

(^Exit Mar. Mr. S. goes to window and looks out.) 

7 



8 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Enter Mar. with Mr. Herbert Brownell, c. 

Mr. B. Good-morning Mr. Seabury. My name is Brown- 
ell, Herbert Brownell of the Tribune. I understand a secret 
indictment has been brought against the Seabury Packing Co. 
by the grand jury. 

Mr. S. Well, supposing it has, what has that got to do with 
you ? 

Mr. B. Nothing, only perhaps the readers of the paper 
might be interested to know the details of the case. 

Mr. S. If you want to learn the details of the case why 
don't you go to the District Attorney? He evidently knows 
them. 

Mr. B. Very good suggestion, Mr. Seabury. I have al- 
ready done that. There is always two sides to a story, and 
we'd like to hear yours. 

Mr. S. Supposing I don't choose to give mine? 

Mr. B. But I believe you do choose. 

Mr. S. Why ? 

Mr. B. Because if we publish simply the information we 
got from the District Attorney's office, namely, that secret mains 
are laid into your plant by which you steal millions of gallons 
of the city's water each year, it might look rather bad for you. 
Surely a word from you at this time would do no harm and 
might create a public sentiment in your favor that would re- 
act for your benefit later on. 

Mr. S. I don't know but what you're right. Sit down. 
Now tell me exactly what you want to know. 

{Reporter takes out note-book. Copies notes. ^ 

Mr. B. First: You're president of the largest packing 
company in Chicago, Mr. Seabury ? 

Mr. S. Yes. 

Mr. B. And the dividends of your corporation have lately 
been increased to twelve per cent. ? 

Mr. S. What has that got to do with this indictment ? 

Mr. B. The public always like to know the financial con- 
ditions of the corporation involved. 

Mr. S. Imagine we are making too big profits, eh ? The 
trouble with the public is, that they don't take into consider- 
ation what a big corporation, such as ours is, has to go through 
to bring it up to its present state of development. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 9 

Mr. B. Exactly. Your company is the consolidation of 
five packing houses. 

Mr. S. Yes. 

Mr. B. Will you tell me briefly, Mr. Seabury, why the com- 
panies combined ? 

Mr. S. Because we were all in the same boat. All of them 
had the same experience I had. That is, we started out as 
young men. In my case, I was in for myself when I was 
twenty-four, fought an up-hill fight against competition and 
business depressions until I placed my business upon a firm 
foundation. Competition became keener and keener demand- 
ing a larger amount of advertising and higher wages. 

Mr. B. Higher wages caused by the men unionizing. 

Mr. S. Yes. I was forced with others to combine. We 
saw that the trusts were wiping out the competitive system, 
and if we were to keep pace with them we must adopt their 
tactics and become one of them, which we did. 

Mr. B. Now, regarding the findings of the grand jury. Is 
there any truth in them ? 

Mr. S. None. Absolutely none. (I^isfs.') It's the at- 
tempt of the District Attorney to make political material at the 
expense of the business interests of Chicago. {Rings bell.^ 
You tell your readers for me, Mr. Reporter, that at the proper 
time and place this matter will be shown up in its true light. 
{Enter Mar., c.) I brand this whole story as absolutely false. 
I have given you all the time I can spare now. Margaret will 
show you out. 

Mr. B. Thank you very much, Mr. Seabury. You won't 
regret that you granted me this interview. Good-morning. 

Mr. S. Good-day. {Exeunt ULr. B. an^MAR., c. Mr. S. 
goes to 'phone ; calls.) Laselle 4226. I'd like to speak to Mr. 
Sullivan. This is Seabury. An important matter has just 
turned up which will interest you. Yes, I'll wait in for you. 
All right. Good-bye. (Resumes seat by table.) 

Enter Aunt Hattik from l. 

Aunt H. William, what is troubling you so? I have 
noticed for the last six months that you do not seem to be 
yourself; won't you tell me? 

Mr. S. There, there, little sister, it's nothing but the stress 
of business. You know it has increased wonderfully in the 
last few months. 



10 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Aunt H. Yes, I know it has, but there is something more 
than business troubling you. {Places hands on his shoulders.') 
Ever since Florence died, I have been mother to Dorothy and 
companion to you. It is only right that I should bear with 
you your sorrows as well as your joys. I am sure Dorothy 
feels the same as I do. 

Mr. S. Yes, you have been all this to me and more. If 
there was anything to tell I should take you into my con- 
fidence. How is Dorothy's arm to-day? 

{Eises and walks toward window.) 

Aunt H. As well as can be expected. The doctor says 
she cannot go to the game this afternoon, and the poor child's 
heart is almost broken. I believe she is in the library. I'll 
call her if you like ? 

(Mr. S. nods assent. Exit Aunt H., r.) 

E filer Aunt H., followed by Dorothy Seabury. Mr. S. 
turns from window and greets Dor. 

Mr. S. Well, my dear, how are you to-day ? 

Dor. Quite well, father. It isn't the excitement of the 
accident or the pain in my arm that is troubling" me, but the 
thought that I will be unable to go to the game. 

Mr. S. It is such a clear day you can see the game from 
the window pretty well. 

Dor. Yes, I know I can. But it isn't like being on the 
field, hearing the cheering which means so much to the players 
and makes one's heart throb for victory. 

Aunt H. Dorothy is a brave girl, and will bear her disap- 
pointment bravely, I know. 

Mr. S. Is there anything I can do, dear, to make the day 
pleasant ? 

Dor. Yes, father. I've asked two of the boys who are on 
the team with Dick over to dinner this evening. Billy and Mr. 
Kendrick. 

Mr. S. I don't like young Kendrick. 

Dor. Why? 

Mr. S. Oh, he lacks ambition and — determination. In- 
stead of being out in the world making a name for himself, 
here he is, after spending three years in a regular college course 
and two years in the law department, wasting an extra year 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY II 

simply to play football. {Drops voice.) I do hope there is 
nothing serious between you and him. 

Aunt H. Don't be too hasty, William. 

Dor. {turning aside). He is nothing to me, father. {Turns 
to Mr. S.) But you must admit he is a fine player. 

Mr. S. Yes. But ability to play football doesn't count in 
dollars and cents. 

Dor. There is more in this world than mere money. 
{Exeunt Mr. S. and Axj-iHT H. at r. Dor. looks out of window. 
Enter Richard Seabury ate. Tosses gloves ^ hat and paper 
on sofa and sinks in utter despair in chair at side of table. 
Dor. turning sees Dick, and advances toward him.') Why, 
Dick, what is the matter ? 

Dick. You've always found me a decent sort of a fellow, 
especially when ladies are present, haven't you ? 

Dor. Why, certainly. 

Dick. You would at least allow that I had a little balance 
to my credit as a gentleman ? 

Dor. Yes. 

Dick. You never saw me do a jig when the parson was 
present ? 

Dor. No. {Sits in chair on opposite side of table.) 

Dick. Or walk down Dearborn Street on my hands, kick- 
ing my feet in the air. 

Dor. What nonsense ! You 

Dick. Or send out theatre party invitations written in lead 
pencil. 

Dor. What are you driving at ? 

Dick. On the whole {turning in chair and facing 'Dok.)^ 
am I getting by ? Do I make a hit ? What do you think of 
me? 

Dor. {putting arms on Dick's shoulders across table). To 
be perfectly serious, I think you are the nicest brother a girl 
ever had. 

Dick. When I'm invited to dinner do you find it necessary 
to telephone the host advising him to have me watched so I 
won't take everything that isn't anchored ? 

Dor. {laughitig aloud ). Why, Dick ! 

Dick. Will you tell me, then, why it was that when I, as 
big as a real man, jumped from my car in front of her house, 
ran up the steps, rang the bell, gave my card to the butler, 
waited patiently, it was only to find that she wouldn't see me ? 

Dor. Did she refuse ? 



12 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Dick. No. She didn't say she wouldn't see me, but the 
butler said she was out. (^Ris€S and walks to fireplace.) 

Dor. She probably was. 

Dick. That's what 1 thought when he told me. {Pause ; 
turns toward Dor.) Then I went slowly down the steps, 
hobbled across the sidewalk, fell into the car, started the 
machine, and hardly traveled a hundred yards when I realized 

I was — was What is it bees do to persons who torment 

them? 

Dor. They sting them. 

Dick. Yep. That's it. I was stung. 

Dor. How was that ? 

Dick. Oh, when I turned around to see if the rear wheels 
of the car were following the front ones, I saw the lady in ques- 
tion coming down the steps leaning on the arm of — well, a 
cheap sport. 

Dor. Who is this goddess ? 

Dick. Beverly. 

Dor. Miss Calvert did that ? There must have been some 
mistake. 

Dick. Yes, I'm the mistake. {Pause.) But why wouldn't 
she see me ? 

Dor. Perhaps the continuing of your acquaintance was not 
agreeable to her. 

Dick. Acquaintance ! You mean friends. Why, Dot 1 
Beverly and 1 have been lifelong friends for — for — almost two 
weeks. I suppose if Beverly's father knew I was in love with 
her he'd have me tarred and feathered. 

Dor. Oh, I guess not. You mustn't be too hard on him. 

Dick. I'm not his judge. But, according to the news- 
papers, on some dark night he should charter a steamer, load 
it up with his coin, have it steam out into the middle of the 
lake and when no one is looking drop the "mazuma" over- 
board. 

Dor. The newspapers always assume that large fortunes 
are made dishonestly. In our father's case 

Dick. Oh, our father. His money is in ; and came out of 
the packing business. People have got to eat. What is more 
heroic than supplying a large portion of the world with part of 
its food ? I mean those fellows who made their money over- 
night in land-grab schemes, race-tracks, bucket shops, or some 
other swindling game. But here's one of the stocks **Pa" 
Calvert doesn't vote on. I'm going to have Beverly. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY IJ 

Dor. What does she say about it ? 

Dick. I haven't asked her yet. But I know she loves me, 
because I'm just crazy about her. 

Dor. How do you reconcile this statement with your recent 
cold reception ? 

Dick. There's something behind that. I don't know what 
it is and I don't care. Beverly is as good as won. Even if 
she were confined in some castle of medieval days, built on 
an island in some isolated lake, surrounded by the pick of 
Napoleon's army, it would make no difference. I would draw 
my sword, engage in a hand-to-hand conflict with the **01d 
Guard," and after I had conquered them swim to the island, 
storm the castle, rescue Beverly, and deal with the castle's 
defenders as becomes a victor. You see it's my move, and I 
want to play the game so's to win. Of course you'll help me. 

Dor. Help you ? How ? You know she is my chum and 
will probably call on me some time to-day. (^Rises,) 

Dick. Yes, I know. But why can't you arrange for a little 
theatre party some evening next week ? You and Beverly may 
be the guests and I'll be the protector. 

Dor. It's entirely out of the question. I — I — why, I can't. 

Dick. Oh, help a fellow. Just this once, won't you? 
That's the way with sisters. Never want to give their little 
brothers a helping hand. They sit back and grin at him and 
let him fight it out the best way he can. Just this once ? 

Dor. I won't promise, but I'll do the best I can. 

Dick. That's the girl. I knew you would if I teased long 
enough. I tell you. Dot, love 

Enter Mar., c. door. 

Mar. This way, gentlemen. 

Enter Bob Kendrick and Billy Reynolds, carrying suit- 
cases. Get stuck in door. 

Billy. You go first. Bob, and I'll proceed you. 

{Both place suit-cases at right of door. Throw sweaters on 
suit-cases.) 

Dor. Hello, Bobby I 

(Bob nods acknowledgment. Exit Mar.) 

Bob. Is your courage good, Dick ? 



14 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

( Crosses and shakes hands with Dick. ) 

Dick. High-water mark. Full to overflowing. Just wait- 
ing to get at them. 

(Bob crosses to Dor. Billy shakes hands with Dick, then 
walks over and stands behind Bob.) 

Bob ito Dor.). How's that naughty little arm? Is the 
doctor going to let you go to the game ? 

Dor. I'm afraid not. His royal highness, Dr. Grey (rais- 
ing right arm)f issued a decree that I shall not leave the house 
to-day. Isn't that just my luck? I have looked forward to 
this game for so long, and was going with the jolliest bunch 
of girls. Now all I'll see of the game is from a stupid old 
wi ndow. (Stamps foot. ) 

Billy (shaking hands with himself). I am pleased to meet 
myself, thank you. 

Dor. Oh, my poor Billy. I didn't mean to overlook you. 
You'll forgive me ? 

(Bob crosses to r. and talks with Dick.) 

Billy. I'll think it over and let you know later. 

Dor. If you feel as fine as you look you ought to give a 
good account of yourself in 

Dick. Oh, he'll give a good account of himself, won't he, 
Bob? 

Bob. He ought to after that private interview with the 
coach. 

Dor. Did he give you a scolding, Billy? 

Billy. He had a little friendly advice in one hand, and my 
walking ticket in the other, and it was up to me to draw. 

Dor. What is it the coach says to the team between the 
halves which puts so much life into them ? 

Bob. Ask Billy. He knows. 

Billy. Ask the coach ; perhaps he'll give you a private 
lesson. 

Dor. Billy ! 

Dick. Bob's got Billy's lecture down pat. He was reciting 
it up in the room the other night. Hey, Bill ? 

Billy. Oh, it was a pretty good imitation, with emphasis 
on the imitation. 

Dor. Let's hear it, Bob. 

Bob. It wouldn't be just right to Billy. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY I5 

Billy. Aw! Sure, go ahead, if you like. I'm always 
getting it rubbed into me. Guess I can stand it. 

(^Clears the room for the professor. Pulls table back a 
little way and moves chairs back a little way. Dor. sits 
on piano stool, Billy /;/ chair, Dick on divan.) 

Bob {with plenty of actio 71). Well, seeing you want to hear 
it so bad. You'll have to stretch your imagination a bit. The 
scene is the interior of the dressing-room. {Goes down R. 
front of stage.) One of those wooden buildings made from 
matched boards, lockers on one side, a few long benches on 
the other, a couple of windows and a door. Outside a mighty 
cheer rends the air ; the first half is over. {Slow.) The team 
files in. {Pathos.) Each member of it a picture of despair. 
Some of the fellows lie flat on their backs. Some drop on the 
benches. Others lean against the walls. {Low voice.) There 
is a low hum of voices until Parker — he's the coach — comes in 
and slams the door. He faces the team like a lion at bay. 
Then follows something like this {plenty of action) : ''Every 
one of you men get down on your back. If I have told you 
fellows once, I've told you a hundred times to cut out your 
smoking. That's all the good it did. Every one of you is 
panting like a locomotive. You fellows cut out your smoking, 
or some of the subs will be put in. What's the results? The 
first half is over and they've scored six points. {Points to im- 
aginary player on floor.) You shut up that noise and listen. 
(Pause.) Jones, what's the matter with you ? You're way up 
in the air and slow as a freight train. In fact, the whole team 
is rotten on the start. Time and again they've got the jump 
on you and made anywhere from ten to fifteen yards. {Sar- 
castically.) Turner, you're the poorest quarter-back I ever saw, 
not using any head work. {Pats head.) You call for your 
plays like an old woman. The whole team is going to pieces 
under you. Didn't I tell you that when you had the ball 
inside your own twenty-yard hue to kick ? You've been domg 
everything but that. I'll start you in the second half, and if 
you don't play good ball you're coming out. When you're in- 
side your own twenty-yard line, kick, kick, kick. When in 
the centre of the field use your onside kicks, fake plays and 
forward passes. You do some work, hard work ; get that ball 
inside their thirty-yard hne. Try between left guard and 
tackle. Use your tandem formation with plenty of gmger. If 
you make the distance slam them again. {Sarcastic.) Billy, 



l6 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

the first thing I want you to do is to get that bunch of skirts 
out of your mind and stop trying to make grand-stand plays. 
Look at your face ; pretty sight, isn't it ? Their centre is put- 
ting it all over you. He gets the jump on you and blocks 
our plays. If you don't play the game of your life this next 
half (^pausingt shaking fist in Billy's face) I'll break your 
neck. As a team you're not working together ; you've all got 
your minds on some feminine beauty. 1 want you fellows to 
get together and do a little team work, play low and slam that 
line hard. Listen for your signals, and when you get them 
start. You backs stick to your interference. I want you fel- 
lows to go out and play a hard, fast, consistent game. Quarter- 
back, you find their weak spot and you pound it, slam it, punch 
it, and when you get tired pound it some more. Whatever 
you do, go out there and win. My last word to you, Billy, is 
to forget the girl and play football. That's all." 

(Bob sits on couch. Applause from Dick and Billy.) 

Dor. Do you boys have to stand all that ? 

Dick. That's what puts the life into us. 

Billy. Yep, that's right. {Picks up his sweater and suit- 
case.) Show us where we are going to dress, Dick, and we 
will get the cases out of the way. Come on, Bob. 

Bob {picking up sweater and suit-case). You'll excuse us, 
won't you, Dorothy? 

Dor. Certainly. 

Dick. We're going up to the room now, and if we should 
return during our absence, just hold us here until we get back. 

{Exeunt, at r., Billy, Bob and Dick. Dor. resumes seat 
at piano and plays softly.) 

Enter Mar., c. 

Mar. Miss Calvert is in the reception-room. 

Dor. Will you show her in here, Margaret, please ? (Exit 
Mar. , c. Enter Mkyl,, followed by Beverly Calvert, from c. ) 
Hello, Beverly. It's nice of you to come to see me before the 
game. Come over here and talk to me. 

(Dor. and Bev. sit on divan.) 

Bev. I feel so sorry you will not be able to go with us. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 1 7 

Oh, by the way, you remember Bernice Carter, who was at 
Wellesley with us ? 

Dor. You don't mean Bernice Carter, the man-hater ? 

Bev. The very same. While on my way up here I met 
her, and what do you think? She's engaged. 

Dor. Engaged I 

Bev. {nodding head). He gave her the nicest diamond I 
believe I ever saw. {Aises.) He's tall, broad-shouldered, has 
light hair, blue eyes, and is quite an athlete. I believe she said 
he was a Yale man. (Sits down.) Isn't it strange that just as 
soon as class-day is over all the girls announce their engage- 
ments, one right after the other ? I suppose you will be the 
next? 

Dor. Me ! Why, Beverly, who would want an old maid 
like me, who is cross and crabbed and as ugly as can be ? In 
a few years the tabbys will be calling me their friend. 

Bev. {edging up to Dor.). Oh, Dorothy, you don't mean 
that ? You're just out of college. Why, last year at this time 
wc were studying our hardest trying to pass exams, and cram- 
ming for all we were worth. Oh, but I've some fine news. 
Father told us this morning that we would stay in Chicago this 
winter instead of going South as we first intended. So you see 
we will still be together. 

Dor. I'm so glad. I was afraid you would winter at Palm 
Beach. And you know Palm Beach is where all the pretty 
young girls fall in love. 

Bev. I guess I'll never fall in love. I haven't any use for 
a man. Oh^ yes, I have, too — father was going to take mother 
and me to the opera to-night, but he has been called to New 
York and must catch the five o'clock train. So you see mother 
and I are looking for a man. 

Dor. Perhaps my brother Dick could accommodate you ? 

Bev. Do you believe he would ? 

(Bob appears in doorway.) 

Dor. I'll ask him if you like ? 

Bev. No. Perhaps I had better do that. 

(Bob coughs in doorway, r. Dor., turning, sees'Ro^; both 
girls rise.) 

Dor. Oh, Bob, I want you to meet a college friend of 
mine. Miss Calvert, Mr. Kendrick. 



l8 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Bob. I am glad to meet you, Miss Calvert. 

Bev. I have heard Dorothy speak of you so often that I 
feel as if I had known you for a long time. 

Dor. Why, Beverly ! 

Bob. I hope you only heard the best reports about me ? 

Bev. Just the nicest 

Dor. Now you cut that out. 

(Dor. leads Bev. to window ; they talk in undertone. Bob 
in quandary. Suddenly has an idea. Goes to right en- 
trance and whistles. Dick whistles off stage.") 

Enter Dick, r. 

Bob. Didn't I hear you raving in your sleep last night 
about Beverly Calvert ? (^Short pause.) She's over there. 

Dick {looking around room). Where ? {Indifferently.) 
Oh, yes, I see. 

Bob. Supposing you go over and talk to her. 

Dick. Nope. I'm bashful. 

Bob (jlappifig Dick on back). Oh, get out. Take her out 
for a nice little stroll and show her the grounds. Help a fellow 
out, won't you? 

(Dick and Bob move down centre stage.) 

Dick. Well, I'll tell you, Bob, I don't care anything about 
taking a walk, but seeing — er — that, well, you want me to, I 
suppose I'll have to accommodate you. Remember, I'm doing 
this not because I want to, but just to help you out. So when 
I come around looking for a favor I'll expect to get it. You 
swear ? 

Bob (raising right hand). I do. 

Dick {very bashfully). Good-morning, Miss Calvert. 

(Bev. advances and shakes hands with Dick.) 

Bev. How do you do, Mr. Seabury ? I am sorry I was out 
when you called. 

{Qo^ Joins Dor. at window. Dick and Bev. move down 
stage.) 

Dick. Out — oh, that's all right. Sister was telling me you 
were interested in dogs. I have the finest litter of pups you 
cever saw. Wouldn't you like to see them ? 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 1 9 

Bev. Yes, indeed I would. You won't mind, will you, 
Dorothy ? 

Dor. Certainly not. 

Dick (Jo Bev., while going off stage at c). There's one lit- 
tle brindle fellow with the cutest httle screw tail and white 
stockinged paws you ever saw \_Exeunt. 

Bob. I can hardly realize that we are at last alone. 

Dor. But we are. {^IVa Ik toward divan.') 

Bob. Yes ! All this morning up till now I felt as though I 
was living in soncie other world. Everything seemed so strange, 
as though I was in some sort of a trance. I don't know what it 
was unless it was love. When I saw you I suddenly seemed to 
come to myself and realized what a beautiful place this earth 
really 

Dor. You're a mighty nice boy, Bobby ; now sit down and 
behave and don't talk nonsense. {Both sit o?t divan.) 

Bob. That's what you tell me every time I make love to 
you. 

Dor. Then you shouldn't make love to me. Why, you're 
not even out of college yet. 

Bob. I wish you would take me seriously. 

Dor. How can I take you seriously when you are anything 
but serious ? I wish you would cut college and start a law prac- 
tice and do things. There's Henry Chandler, just your age, 
who has a law practice of several thousand dollars a year. 

Bob (rising). What do I need to practice law for ? ( Walks 
to left of stage in meditation, and returns.) I have more 
money now than I can ever spend {sitting down), unless you 
help me. {Puts arms around Dor.) If you only knew how 
I love you. (Dor. reluctantly pushes Bob a7vay.) I went out 
into the Rockies this summer thinking that with Dick and Bill 
'way out there on the mountains I could forget you, and lose 
myself in nature. But I was just the same as I am now, always 
thinking of you. It seemed as if all nature was in a conspiracy 
to remind me of you. The rocks on the mountainsides seemed 
to work their jagged forms into the outline of your name. The 
little birds as they chirped their happy songs seemed to sing it. 
The universe 

Dor. [interrupting). Bobby, stop that foolishness. This 
makes the fifth time you have proposed to me, and I have told 
you every time that the man I marry must have more to offer 
me than love or money. He must be one who, if every cent 
of his money was lost in a day, could go out into the world and 



20 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

make a living for himself and me. The last time you spoke to 
me about this you promised that when you came back from 
your vacation you would go into your father's business, and in 
time take charge of it. 

Bob {risitig and moving toward centre of stage). Yes, I 
know I did. If you knew how hard Ruggles, the captain of 
the team, plead for me to come back to college this fall and 
play, you wouldn' t blame me. {Returns ; stands behind divan, ) 
After a man has been in college a few years he gets the spirit, 
you know what I mean, the college spirit, and he will do any- 
thing for his Alma Mater. But just as soon as the football 
season is over I'll leave college and start in father's law office. 
I don't know anything about the office business, but I don't see 
why it shouldn't go straight on as it always has. 

Dor. (Joying with a piece of ribbon). Possibly ; but I im- 
agine your father expected you to have rather a difficult time 
of it. Perhaps he wanted you to, so that a defeat or two will 
sting you into having a little more serious purpose in life than 
you have at present. 

Bob. If I could only remember my promises I think I would 
get along better. Some one asks me to play polo, toss a ball 
or some other thing, and my good resolutions go to the winds, 
I have it ! Tie that piece of ribbon on my finger, and see if I 
can remember over night. 

Dor. (rising). Oh, you silly boy ! Well, if it will help 
you any, I'll humor you. 

(^Ties ribbon on finger of Bob's left hand.) 

Bob (taking Dor.'s hands in his). If I go in and make a 
success of the business, will you marry me ? 

Dor. This makes the sixth time, but you never can tell. 
Bob {embracing Dor.). I'm going to seal that with a kiss. 

(Dor. screams and struggles.) 

Aunt H. {looking for Dor., calls for her off right of stage). 
Dorothy ! 

Dor. Yes, Auntie. 

Enter Aunt H., at R. 

Aunt H. Good-morning, Mr. Kendrick. I hope you are 
feeling well? 

Bob {nervous). Very well, thank you. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 21 

Aunt H. I suppose you are so full of football that you 
have been telling Dorothy the outcome of to-day's game? 

Bob {very nervous). Yes. Oh, yes, yes. I have been 
telling her that we are going to beat them to a jelly. That is 
— -er — I should have said, we anticipate a victory. {^Gains 
confidence.') You see, we have most of last year's team back, 
and have got the buUiest coach a team ever had. (^Full of 
confidence.) I don't believe there is a single thing about the 
game that that man doesn't know. Knows it from A to Z. 
Just like a book. 

Enter Dick and Bev., a/c, arm in arm, 

Bev. I think they are just the cutest puppies I ever saw, 

(Bob crosses and talks to Dor.) 

Dick. That's 'cause they're mine. 

Bev. {to Aunt H.). Good-morning, Miss Seabury. 

Aunt H. Good- morning. I suppose Dick has been show- 
ing you his dogs ? 

Bev. Yes; 1 think they are just lovely. (TI^Dick.) But 
wasn't the mother cross ? 

Dick. You bet. She thought by the way you cuddled up 
the little fellow that you would want it. 

Bev. You're going to give him to me when he gets a little 
older, aren't you ? 

Dick. Yes, I guess so, seeing that he will have such a fine 
mistress. {To audience.). Golly ! Don't I wish I was that 
pup. 

Enter Billy, r. 

Billy {angrily). You're the hottest fellows I ever saw, to 
beat it off and leave me alone in the pool-room. {To Dor.) 
What do you think of these fellows, Dorothy ? We were hav- 
ing a game of pool, Bob excuses himself, then Dick goes off to 
find Bob, and neither of them comes back. I've read a couple 
of magazines all through waiting for them to return and finish 
the game. But I guess those fellows are playing some other 
game than pool. {Door-bell rings.) 

Bob {crossing and slapping Billy on back). Come, Billy, 
cheer up. You know what the coach said about being dis. 
heartened before a game. 

Dick. Quit teasing Billy ; you'll make him peevish. 



22 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Mar. [entering at c). Miss Peggy Marshall, Miss Polly 
Whitney. 

Enter Peggy Marshall a^id Polly Whitney. 

Dick {advancing to meet theni). Look who's here. Greet- 
ings. 

Peg. Hello, Dick ! 

Dor. Hello, girls ! I didn't think you would forget me 
in my misery. 

Pol. You know us better than that, Dorothy, don't you ? 

Peg. Well, I should think you ought to. 

Dor. Yes, I do. You've met every one here, I beheve, 
except Billy. 

Dick. Billy, mother wants you. 

(Billy advances.') 

Dor. Let me make you acquainted with Peggy Marshall — 
Billy. 

Peg. I am pleased to meet you. 

Billy. Charmed. 

Dor. Miss Polly Whitney — Billy. 

Billy. Dee-lighted ! 

Pol. Thank you. 

(^General laugh. Billy takes both by arms and leads them 
to divan, sitting between them. General stage talk be- 
tween others in group.) 

Billy. You know, I knew I was going to meet you girls 
this afternoon. 

Pol. Indeed ! 

Peg. How's that ? 

Billy. You see, I went to a fortune-teller the other day 
and she said some time within five, and to-day is the fourth 
day, I would make the acquaintance of two of the most charm- 
ing ladies I had ever met. 

Peg. Really ? 

Pol. How strange ! Why, you don't believe in fortune- 
tellers, do you ? 

Billy. Not in all they say, but once in a while they do hit 
a nail on the head. Course, if I was foolish enough to believe 
it all, I ought to get hit on the head. 

Peg. And pray tell us, Bill — I mean Mr. Reynolds, what 
would this team do for a centre this afternoon ? 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 23 

Pol. I guess he never thought of that. Maybe the fortune- 
teller told him some way out. 

Billy. Are you girls kidding me ? 

Peg. No, I am not, and I know Polly never does. 

Bob {looking at watch). Say, fellows, it's half- past twelve. 
Hadn't we better be getting into our togs? 

Billy. Guess we had if we don't want to be sat on. 

Dick. Oh, you'll be sat on all right. 

Billy. There you go, picking on a little fellow like me. 

(Dick and Bob start for r. exit.) 

Bev. I want you boys to give a good account of yourselves. 

Aunt H. I'm sure they will. 

Dor. Remember I'm going to watch the game from the 
window. {Sits on couch.) 

Billy {standing with Peg. and Pol.). I'm awfully pleased 
to have met you girls, and I hope that fortune will smile favor- 
ably on me in the future — {under breath) and other young 
ladies — {aloud) and that I shall see you often. 

Peg. Fortune is a very funny person ; it's hard to win her 
favor. I hope you boys as a team don't meet her daughter, 
Miss Fortune, for we want you to win. 

Pol. Yes, and so do I, for I lose a pound of Huyler's if 
you don't. 

Billy. Do you really want me — I mean us, to win ? 

Peg. Of course. 

Pol. Yes. 

Billy. Then it's settled we win ; you just watch us. Now, 
all together, one good big cheer for the Northwestern Uni- 
versity. 

Northwestern University. Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! 
Northwestern University. Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
University, University. Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! 

{Exeunt at r., Dick, Billy and Bob.) 

Dor. If the boys keep that spirit up they will win. 

Aunt H. What great difference does it make whether 
they do or not ? 

Bev. What ! Why, of course you don't mean that, Miss 
Seabury? You are just as anxious to see them win as we are, 
now aren't you ? 



24 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Aunt H. I guess I am. 

Peg. I wish you were going along with us, Dorothy. Polly 
and I have an extra seat that you could use just as well as not. 

Pol. I guess if Dorothy was going she wouldn't be sitting 
with us girls. 

Dor. Don't judge me too harshly. Remember I have got 
to stay at home and watch the game from the window. 

Bev. I suppose accidents will happen, only I wish it was 
after the game instead of before. 

Dor. So do I, but then I can see fairly well from here. 
Remember you girls have got to cheer for me because they 
can't hear me. 

Peg. We had better be going, Polly. We won't have any 
too much time as it is. Perhaps you will come along with us, 
Beverly ? 

Bev. Thanks. I don't know but what I will. Good-bye, 
Miss Seabury. 

Aunt H. Good-bye, girls. I hope you will enjoy your- 
selves. 

Pol. You bet we will. 

Peg. I never went to a game but what I enjoyed it. 

Bev. Everybody does. Good-bye. 

(All exeunt at c. Aunt H. goes to the window.') 
Enter Mr. S., at l. 

Mr. S. What was all that noise and howling about I heard 
a few minutes ago ? 

Aunt H. That was the young people giving one of their 
college yells. 

Mr. S. It seems to me they made a good deal of noise. 
(Walks down stage with haftds in trousers pockets.) I'll be 
glad when the football season is over. I've heard football 
morning, noon, and night, for the last three weeks, and I'm 
sick and tired of it. 

Dor. (entering at c). Why, what is the matter, father ? 

Mr. S. I was just speaking my mind about this crazy foot- 
ball nonsense. If these young fellows instead of chasing a ball 
up and down the field, piling on top of one another, and seeing 
how much pounding a man can stand without being killed, 
would only use the same amount of energy, ambition and de- 
termination in business, what a wonderful world this would be. 

Aunt H. All you think of, William, is business. 

[Exit, at R. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 2$ 

Enter Mar., at q.^ followed by P. Homer Sullivan. 

Mar. Mr. P. Homer Sullivan is 

SuL. {interrupting). Right here. \Exit Mar. 

Mr. S. Good -morning, Mr. Sullivan. 
SuL. I got here just as soon as I could after I received your 
message. 

Mr. S. My daughter Dorothy, Mr. Sullivan. 
SuL. I'm pleased to meet you. 

Enter Mar. 

Mar. Miss Dorothy, your aunt would like to see you in 
the library. 

Dor. Will you excuse me ? 

Both. Certainly. [Exeunt Dor. and Mar., c. 

SuL. Kind of funny, Seabury, isn't it, that your daughter 
should be thrown from one of the cars of our Terminal 
Company ? 

Mr. S. Sh ! not so loud. {Fulls down window.) Some 
one might overhear. {Fulls down curtain and closes door.) 

SUL. Now, to get down to business, what's up ? 

Mr. S. Crosby has been converted to the paths of right 
and duty and has summoned me to court. 

SuL. Damn Crosby ! I knew we would have trouble with 
him. I just left the young cur down at the Westwood. He 
was as snorty as a young pup. We might as well clean this 
thing up first as last. Where's your 'phone ? 

Mr. S. Over there by the window. 

SuL. Hello! Give me Main 9005 Westwood? 

Will you look in the dining-room and see if you can find Mr. 
John J. Crosby there. I left him at the table near the Green 
Street window Never mind who it is. Just tell him some- 
body wants to talk to him. (Short pause.) I tell you, Seabury, 

this thing Hello, Crosby. This is Sullivan. I'm up at 

Seabury's. I want you to come up here at once What's 

that? What do I want? Never mind what 1 want. You 

come up here at once. {Slams receiver down.) 

Mr. S. Is he coming ? 

SuL. Coming? Well, I guess he is, if he knows what's 
good for him. 

Mr. S. Supposing he don't? 

SuL. Never mind supposing. Seabury, we're in a devil of 
a hole. If Crosby gives us the shake now the game is up. 



26 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Mr. S. What game ? 

SuL. Why, everything, so far as I'm concerned, and you, 
too. Why, he was old man Kendrick's private secretary, and 
he knows all about the graft and crooked work in the Terminal 
Company. He's got to keep his mouth shut. 

Mr. S. What did you ever support him in the first place 
for? 

SuL. For two reasons. Kendrick wanted somebody for 
District Attorney who wouldn't bother the Terminal Company, 
and Crosby's friend Finkelstein wanted him to run. The Jew 
put up a rare campaign fund for Crosby with the understand- 
ing that we run him on the Republican ticket. 

Mr. S. How was it the Democratic boss helped to support 
a Republican ? 

SuL. The Republicans haven't been doing much in my dis- 
trict in the last few years. Now Doyle, the alderman from the 
ward, was to come up for reelection the next year. The 
chances were that without the Republicans' help an Independ- 
ent would have been elected. So I supported Crosby on the 
Republican ticket. In return for this the Republicans agreed 
not to put up a candidate for alderman the following year. 

Mr. S. Why, you didn't support him openly? 

SuL. No, we started a young men's Republican associa- 
tion, and had the rich brewer's best beer by the hogshead, and 
fireworks, and speeches, and plenty of money. We elected 
Crosby, and had some of the money left over to elect our man 
this year with. 

Mr. S. Are you sure of your ward this coming election ? 

SuL. Well, I ought to. I can call every man in the ward 
by his first name, and I know how many are in his family. I 
can tell within one per cent, of what the vote of my ward 
will be. 

Enter John J. Crosby, c, in an excited manner. 

Cros. What the devil do you mean by commanding me to 
come up here when I was dining with a party of friends ? 

SuL. Crosby, Sherman said, '* War is hell," but war won't 
be anything to what is going to take place between you and J, 
if you don't cut out this reform business. 

Mr. S. What do you mean by summoning me to court ? 

SuL. You keep quiet, Seabury; I guess I can run this man. 

Cros. Run me? Ha! You're up against the stiffest 
proposition you ever tackled. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 2'] 

SUL. Wliat are you sore about ? 

Cros. Sore? I'm not sore, but I'm sick and tired of this 
dirty, rotten, political corruption. Tired of graft. Tired of 
being bossed by you. 

SuL. Wliat's the idea of the summons? 

Mr. S. That's what I'm trying to find out. 

Cros. You'll find out when you get into court. Is this 
what you gentlemen called me here for ? 

SuL. No. I called you here to tell you that unless you cut 
out this Sunday-school reform movement I'll withdraw my sup- 
port and defeat you in the coming election. 

Cros. Oh, that's the idea. Withdraw your support if you 
like ; I'll run and be elected without it. [Crosses to l.) 

Mr. S. Don't be a fool. You know you can't be elected 
without Sullivan's support. 

Sql. Run alone. You'll get about twenty votes. Now, 
Crosby, I want you to understand me. You withdraw this 
summons, and stand true to your friends, or by the gods we'll 
have war to the end. I've dealt with such men as you before. 
Look at Fitzpatrick, Doyle, Connelly, and even my own cousin, 
Tim Sullivan. Every one of them had gone as high as you 
have when they got it into their heads they were the whole 
show. Look at them now ; every one of them is down and out. 
I tell you I'm the whole show. A nice story we can make of 
your dealings with the Terminal Company, The graft as you 
call it. This world is full of graft, and if you don't get in on 
it some other fellow will. Think of the chances of making a 
name and a position for yourself you are throwing away. 

Mr. S. Yes, you don't realize who Sullivan is, and what he 
can do for you. 

Cros. {at table). What Sullivan is ? Oh, I know what 
Sullivan is. Patrick Homer Sullivan is a politician, and Chi- 
cago is owned by politicians. Twice a year the dear little pub- 
lic march to the ballot box and kid themselves that they are 
electing their city government, but that is a bluff and a sham; 
you, and men like you, are the ones that rule Chicago. I 
realize your power. I know you have campaign funds at your 
disposal; you've got the machine at your back, and there is 
nothing you would hesitate to do to accomplish your end, even 
bribery. That's our politics, and I am through with it from 
that angle. [Rises and goes toward door.) No matter what 
I have been in the past even if it is your tool. Hereafter I will 
be no man's man ; I'll appeal to the people. My future is still 



28 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

before me. Withdraw your support if you like ; I'll run just the 
same and be elected, pledged to the people for their interest. 
Good-day, gentlemen. \_Exit, c. 

Mr. S. Looks as if I'd go to court. 

SuL. Don't worry about that now. Your lawyer will put 
that off until after the election. 

Mr. S. What good will that do ? You admit that Crosby 
is strong, and has a good chance of being reelected. 

SuL. Yes, he is strong, but he won't be reelected if I can 
help it. 

Mr. S. Who's the Democratic nominee for District At- 
torney ? 

SuL. Danny Murray, Seabury. Will you support him? 
He's just the kind of a man we want, and say, we'll work the 
wedge on Crosby. 

Mr. S. What do you mean by the wedge ? 

SuL. Run an Independent Republican, and split Crosby's 
vote. 

Mr. S. Where are you going to get him ? 

SuL. Go looking for him. He won't come to us. We've 
got to have some young fellow who is a good talker and a good 
mixer ; some one who has money — enough so they won't say he 
is after the graft. 

Mr. S. How would Wellington do ? 

SuL. He's too strong a man. He might get elected. We 
couldn't control him. 

Mr. S. There's Arthur Crawford. 

SuL. He is a silk stocking sport, and wouldn't mix with 
the crowd. We've got to have some one who is popular. I 
was thinking of young Kendrick. 

Mr. S. Why, he is in college, and never tried a case in his 
life. 

SuL. He's a member of the bar, isn't he? 

Mr. S. Yes ; but what will the people think ? 

SuL. Think ! the people don't think. Kendrick {hitting 
table) is our man. Can I reach him by 'phone? 

Mr. S. No, he is playing in the game to-day. He'll be 
back here after the game. He and his friend always dress up 
in Dick's room so as to have the benefit of the showers. You 
know there aren't any at the grounds. 

SuL. He'll be back here pretty quick, won't he? 

Mr. S. I imagine in about half or three quarters of an 
hour. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 2<) 

Enter Aunt H., r. 

Aunt H. How do you do, Mr. Sullivan ? William, Dor- 
othy has been waiting to see the game from this window. 

Mr. S. Oh, yes, I forgot. Supposing we go down to the 
smoking-room and talk this over, Sullivan ? 

SuL. All right. \_Exeunty r. 

Aunt H. {going to door). Dorothy ! 

Dor. Yes. 

Aunt H. Mr. Sullivan and your father have gone to the 
smoking-room, so you can come in here if you wish to. 

Enter Dor., r. 

Dor. Oh, I can see ever so much better here. 

Aunt H. Who is winning the game ? 

Dor. 'Tisn't over yet. They're pretty well along in the 
second half. And neither side has scored. 

Aunt H. What are they doing now ? 

Dor. Just exchanging punts. The University has just 
kicked to Michigan. One of their backs is waiting to catch it. 
He's got it. There he goes. Dick's waiting to tackle him. 
Oh, he missed. He's got by two or three other men. There's 
Billy. Oh, get him, Billy. Hurrah ! Auntie, they've got 
the ball on our forty-yard line. 

Aunt H. Does that mean they are winning ? 

Dor. Our team holding them. Oh, if they could hold them 
like that every time. 

Aunt H. Don't they get penalized for holding ? 

Dor. Not that kind. The boys have thrown them for a 
loss, and Michigan has got to kick. Yes, and they're going 
to, too. Their guard has dropped back. He must be their 
-punter. He's got the ball. He's not kicking. It's a forward 
pass. He's gone to the right of the Hne and thrown it to their 
end. The ends have got it. Why don't you men tackle him? 
He's gone through the whole team. No, there's our quarter- 
back ; he's got him. 

Aunt H. Where are they now ? 

Dor. They're on our fifteen-yard hne. They are lining 
up again. Why, it looks as if they are going to punt. Oh, 
they're trying to kick a goal. They've kicked. Oh, it's over, 
it's over, it's over. Auntie, they've got five points. Only five 
or six minutes to play. We can't score in that time; the game 
is lost, the game is lost. 



30 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



Aunt H. {rising). Why, Dorothy, this isn't a matter of 
life and death. It's only a game of football. We can't win 
all the time. 

Dor. I know, but think how bad the boys will feel. Dick 
and Bob. They're at it again. Our boys are first receiving their 
kick off. It dropped right in Bob's hands. They're forming 
the wedge. Fine interference, fine. There they go. Oh, 
they've made twenty yards. He's left his interference. A 

man tackles Bobby, by Fine, fine. He's on his feet, 

and is still. Faster, Bobby, faster. He's down, no, he's up 
again. Go on, go on, hurry, hurry. They're after you, there's 
a man right behind you. Their quarter-back is waiting to 
tackle. Oh, dodge him, dodge him. Bob gave him the 
straight arm. Go on, go on. Only five yards to gain. 
Speed, speed. Oh, it's over. Auntie, it's over. Hurrah ! 
Hurrah ! Just in time, for the referee has blown his whistle, 
six to five. 

Aunt H. Well, it's over. I'm so glad. 

Enter SuL. ant/ Mr. S., r. 

SuL. It's just as I tell you, Seabury, just as I tell you. 
Dor. Dick has kicked a goal ; we've won, six to five. 

{Telephone rings.) 

Aunt H. Hello. Yes, this is Mr. Seabury's residence. 

Just a minute, and I'll see William, Mr. Phinney is on 

the line and wants to know if you are in ? 

Mr. S, Tell him I'm out. 

Aunt H. I never told a lie in my life, and I don't intend 
to begin now. You'll have to answer it yourself. 

Mr, S, Sullivan, will you answer that for me ? 

SuL, {answering 'phone). Mr. Seabury has just left for his 
club ; you can probably reach him there. Good-bye. 

Enter Dick and Bob., c, helping Billy. 

Billy {sitting i?t morris chair). I'm not hurt, and no 
bones are broken, but I'm badly twisted. 

Aunt H. This carpet will be ruined with all this mud; 
shoo fly, shoo fly. 

{^Exeunt, Dick, Billy, Bob and Aunt H,, r, 

Mr. S. Just a minute, Mr. Kendrick; let me make you ac- 
quainted with Mr. Sullivan. Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Kendrick. 



The district attorney 



31 



Bob. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Sullivan. I often 
heard my father speak of you. 

SuL. Yes, I did know your father slightly. You are 
probably aware, Mr. Kendrick, that I am somewhat interested 
in our city politics. In the coming election, I have been look- 
ing for a man to nominate for District Attorney. After look- 
ing over a number of available men, without finding any of 
them qualified to fill the position, I turned to Mr. Seabury to 
see if he could suggest some one, and he suggested you. 

Bob. Me ? 

Mr. S. Yes. If Mr. Sullivan succeeds in having you 
nominated for the office, will you accept and run ? 

Bob. District Attorney ! As you must know, Mr. Sullivan, 
I am still at college. To be sure I am a member of the bar, 
but I never tried a case in my life. I'm interested in athletics 
and I promised the captain of the team I'd stay in college 
until after the season is over. I thank you for your offer, Mr. 

Sullivan, but {Looks at hand and sees ribbon^ then looks 

at Dor.) I'll accept. 

Mr. S. I'm glad you accepted, Kendrick. 

Bob. Of course, if I'm elected I will serve, to the best of 
my ability, the people who elected me. 

Mr. S. What ! 

SuL. Of course you will." Of course I would not have you 
do anything else. If you will pardon me, I will be going on 
my way. Good-afternoon, Miss Seabury. I'll be up to see 
you to-night. 

Bob {to Mr. S.). The most important thing of all. 

\Exetint Mr. S. and SuL., c. 

Dor. I'm so glad, Bobby. 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 
SCENE.— 77/^ District Attorney's office, 

JiMMiE (sitting in chair, tilted back, with his feet upon desk^ 
reading aloud dime novel, with a red cover). " Dead shot 
Pete stole stealthily upon the Indian encampment, and there 
the sight which met his gaze was enough to freeze an ordinary 
man's blood. The Indians had beautiful Mary tied to a tree, 
while they were engaged in their fiendish war dance. Did 
Dead shot Pete hesitate ? Not he. Placing his knife between 
his teeth, and gripping a ninety-six caliber revolver in each 
hand, he rushed into their midst to do or die. With the first 
discharge of his artillery, ten of the fifteen Indians dropped 
dead in their tracks. Taking one of the remaining five by the 
ankles, and swinging him around his head as a club, he sent 
four of the five to the Happy Hunting Grounds. Clinching 
with the last redskin, he sent his soul to the Great Spirit. It 
was but the work of an instant to cut the ropes which held the 
beautiful Mary." 

Enter Dick and Billy at R. 

Billy. What are you doing, kid ? Studying law ? 
Jim. {jumping up from seat and putting book under coat), 
Naw ! History. 

Dick. Does the District Attorney happen to be in ? 
Jim. No, sir. Not yet ; expect him any minute, 
Billy. Yes, you looked a moment ago as if you did. 

(Billy sits down by desk very quiet and thoughtful.) 

Jim. Well, I've got to do something to kill time. There 
ain't any Injuns around here to kill. 

Dick. If you don't mind. Diamond Dick Jr., we'll wait 
until Mr. Kendrick comes in. 

Jim. {going out r.). All right, I don't care. 

Dick. I wonder what makes Bob so late this morning ? I 
understand he is usually here long before this. {Stops ; looks 
at Billy.) Say, what's the matter with you ? 

32 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 33 

Billy. Nothing ! 

Dick. Well, what makes you so quiet ? Anything wrong ? 

Billy. Yep. 

Dick {silting dowii). What ? 

Billy. Nothing in particular. 

Dick. Something is wrong, but it is not particular. What 
is it, then ? 

Billy. I didn't say it wasn't. — Yes, I do too; guess I'm a 
little mixed up. What I need is a little advice. 

Dick. Advice ! 

Billy. Yes, advice. Anything out of the ordinary in ask- 
mg for advice ? 

Dick. No. Asking for advice is all right, but why do you 
ask me ? 

Billy. I've got to ask somebody. If I don't, I'll bust. 

Dick. Well, I'm not a patented, automatic advice giving 
machine, but the best I have is at your service. 

Billy {uiithout looking up). Thanks. {Pause,') 

Dick. What do you want to know ? 

Billy. You see these pictures. 

{Takes two pictures from coat.) 

Dick {giving over to Billy). What are they pictures of? 

Billy. Houses, dogs, cats, horses, automobiles, any old 
thing. They're not pictures of girls, oh, no. Just pictures of 
two charming young ladies, understand ? 

Dick. Yes, I understand, but there's no need of getting 
huffy about it. 

Billy. I'm not huffy. I'm excited. Can you keep a 
secret ? (Dick nods assent.) I'm in love. 

Dick. With the pictures ? 

Billy. The pictures nothing. The girls. 

Dick. You don't mean you're in love with both of them — 
Miss Whitney and Miss Marshall ? 

Billy. That's the situation. I don't call them ' Miss ' 
though. Just Peggy Whitney and Polly Marshall. Peggy 
and Polly for short. 

Dick. Hold on a minute ; see if I've got this thing clear. 
Oh, you mutton head, you don't mean to tell me you're in 
love with both girls ? 

Billy. Yep. That's the story. When I'm with Peggy, 
I'm in love with her, and when I'm with Polly, I'm in — well, 



34 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

my heart goes like this {thumping heart), and my head is one 
continuous merry-go-round. Say — how am I going to fix it? 

Dick. Fix it. Fix what ? 

Billy. What are we talking about ? How am I going to 
get out of it ? I don't mean that. How am I going to get 
into it? Say, on the level, Dick, I've got it bad. 

Dick. Well — I — should — say you had. And they're both 
in love with you ? 

Billy. How do I know ? 

Dick. Why don't you ask them? 

Billy. Ask them ? That would be a fine thing to do. 
Suppose they should both accept? Do you think I'm a 
Mormon ? 

Dick. I'd hate to tell you what I think you are. But you 
remind me of one of those little birds with four legs, that runs 
around and sings like this. {Grunts like a pig.) 

Billy. Yes, I know I'm a hog, but I'm asking you to help 
me keep from being one. 

Dick. Then you want me to diagnose your case and sug- 
gest a remedy? Listen, here is the decision of the supreme 
court. I would propose to the first one I had a chance to, and 
if she didn't accept I'd propose to the other one. If by any 
chance she refused me — well, this town is on the edge of a 
mighty big lake. 

Billy {taking Dick's hand). Dick, you're a brick. If I 
can get my nerve up I'll do it to-night. {Starts away ; comes 
back.) Have you had any experience being " best man " ? If 
you haven't you better study up on it. {Enter Bob, at R.) 
Ah ! here's the boy now. 

Dick. This Mr. Kendrick? My name is Seabury. Let 
me introduce my friend Billy. Billy, Mr. Kendrick. 

Billy. Glad to know you, Mr. Kendrick. 

Dick. We haven't seen you for so long. Bob, that we 
thought we had better go through the formality of an introduc- 
tion, so you would know who you were talking to. 

Billy. Dick's got the right idea, stranger. 

Bob. Well, sit down, you fellows, and quit your kidding; 
make yourself to home and tell me some news. 

Dick. Tell you some news ? You mean you tell us the news. 

Billy. I picked up three different papers this morning and 
the front page of each was disfigured with a photograph of 
Robert W. Kendrick, the energetic District Attorney. 

Bob. I see you are just as big a jollier as ever, Billy. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 35 

Dick. Oh, that's no jolly. Here, see what the Herald 
says : *' The grand jury has been in secret session at the court- 
house the past week. Although it is impossible to obtain any 
facts, it is understood that District Attorney Kendrick has been 
presenting some sensational evidence. It is rumored that some 
of the packing houses of the stock-yards have secret mains 
through which they have stolen billions of gallons of the city's 
water. It is understood that investigations have been made 
and the pipes actually uncovered." 

Billy. What do you know about that ? 

Bob. You mustn't believe everything you see in the papers. 
I saw interesting news in one of them last evening regarding 
the attentions of Mr. Richard Seabury to Miss Beverly Calvert, 
but I know there wasn't any truth in it. 

Dick. Well, as it happens, smarty, there is. We're en- 
gaged. But keep it quiet a while. 

Billy. Oh, yes, we'll keep it quiet, nit. 

Bob. Don't keep it quiet. You know good things leak 
out. Let me be the first to congratulate you. 

Dick. Thanks. If you get a hustle on, perhaps we can 
have a double wedding. 

Billy {with handkerchief to eyes), I suppose it is the cus- 
tom to congratulate a prospective bridegroom, but honestly, 
Dick, I pity you from the bottom of my heart. When a man 
gets into the hands of the goddess of love he is like a blind 
man ; he needs some one to hold his hand and lead him. 

Dick. If you wasn't such a little fellow I'd wallop you. It 
was only just now that Billy was telling me he had met his 
affinity. 

Bob. How'd it happen, Billy ? 

Billy. Well, it was like this. We were all standing side 
by each, separately together in a group, and I was about to 
proceed, to start in, to commence, to begin to say, "If my 
presumptions are presumable, as I presume they are, I phrenoxi- 
cate by the peculiar conditions of the atmosphere we will have 
an eriotic storm a few hours hence from the present moment." 
Just then the young ladies passed by. They looked lonesome 
and I — well — I saw her home. 

Bob. Have you got to the love-making stage yet ? 

Billy. Yes — er — why, that is, I'm trying to. 

Dick. How you making out? 

Billy. Not very well. Sent them some flowers the other 
night and they returned them. 



^6 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Bob. Fine ! You're making good. All girls do that at 
first. 

Billy. Then I called on them when they were in, and they 
wasn't in. 

Dick. All those things are in the first stage. 

Billy. How do you know ? 

Bob. Dick's graduated from the amateur to the professional. 

Billy. I wish I could make a hit, as Dick did. 

Bob. Cheer up, Billy, you'll get there yet. 

Dick. Well, Bob, we must be going ; got an engagement. 

Billy. Yes, we only dropped in to say hello. 

Bob {looking at the two pictures Billy left on his desk"). 
What have we here ? 

Dick. Billy left those for you to add to your rogues' gallery. 

Billy. Such words are out of place. 

Bob. So were the pictures. 

Billy (taking pictures'). Once again — good-bye. 

Dick. So-long. 

Bob. Come in again. (Exeunt Dick and Billy, r. Bob 

at desk writing. Telephone rings.) Hello! Yes, this is 

the District Attorney Now you see here, Sullivan ; if you've 

got any business to transact with me you come where I am. 
Good-bye. 

(Slams down receiver, works at desk, takes a few papers in 
hand, exit at l. Jim. slowly opens door at r., pokes in 
head, goes over to desk and telephofies.) 

Jim. Main 7 248 , Hello ! Maxwell Soap Company. Can 

I speak to Willie O'Brien? {Whistles, " Take Me Up to the 
Ball Game.'') Hello, Willie. This is Jimmie. I'm all tired 
out; never got home till two o'clock. Say, can you get off 
and come up to the ball game this afternoon ? I've got a 

couple of passes for the grand stand Well, I haven't asked 

the old man yet. If I can fix it up I'll see you at half- past one 
in front of the Commonwealth Hotel. You bring the pop-corn 
and I'll bring the weed. Good-bye. [Exit, at r. 

Enter Bob and Cros., at L. 

Bob. I read over the evidence on the Terminal Company 
case last night, and I fail to see, unless we have the name of 
the third party, how we can hope to secure a conviction. 

Cros. I cannot possibly give you that name, Mr. Kendrick. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 37 

I'm sorry. If I could I would have told you before. I've 
given you all the evidence in my possession, but that one thing 
I can't. 

Bob. I see no good reason why you shouldn't tell this 
name, and as assistant District Attorney I believe it is your 
duty to do so. 

Cros. Yes, but you do not realize 

Bob. Let us analyze our position and see how we stand. 
You were private secretary to my father, and while in his 
employ as such you met Mr. Sullivan. You knew that Sea- 
bury, Sullivan, and this third party were the financiers of the 
Terminal Company, who had a bill before the City Council 
relative to the building of a subway by the company. 

Cros. Yes, the Terminal Company was to build and pay for 
the proposed tunnel. The understanding was that at the end 
of the twenty years the subway was to become the property of 
the city. 

Bob. Exactly, and this bill passed the Common Council. 

Cros. Yes, on the twenty year proposition. 

Bob. Then the bill was submitted to the Board of Alder- 
men. Sullivan, who was alderman from the Seventeenth Ward, 
introduced an amendment to the original bill, that the agree- 
ment be allowed to run for ninety-nine years instead of twenty 
years. 

Cros. That's right, so far. 

Bob. It was voted on and passed by one vote. Now, fol- 
low me closely. Sullivan saw before the vote that the Board 
would be equally divided on the bill. O'Connell, the alder- 
man from the Sixth Ward, was taKen sick while in one of the 
committee rooms and he was sent home by Sullivan, who evi- 
dently telephoned to Seabury telling him to send you to the 
Aldermanic Chamber. 

Cros. Exactly ; that's right. 

Bob. When you arrived Sullivan happened to be busy 
writing, and asked you to take the seat next to him which hap- 
pened to be the one just left by O'Connell. As I understand 
it, you bore a striking likeness to O'Connell ; in fact so strong 
was the resemblance that the other alderman thought O'Connell 
was present. 

Cros. No one knew O'Connell was sick but Sullivan. 

Bob. Then the franchise is illegal, for the simple reason 
that it has never passed a quorum of the board. And it is up 
to the District Attorney's office to prosecute Seabury, Sullivan 



38 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

and this third party whose identity you hide. Of course your 
turning state's evidence strengthens your position. 

Cros. Yes, I think so, when the court learns that I had no 
intent of fraud, but that events came so quick that I did as 
Sullivan told me to on the impulse of the moment. 

Bob. I understand your position, and when the court fully 
realizes that after my successful campaign against you at the 
last election, you, knowing the exact status of this political 
treachery, so generously offered to serve as assistant District At- 
torney in an endeavor to bring these men to trial, it will re- 
dound to your credit. I must say that if it hadn't been for 
your help, backed by your experience in the office, I would 
have accomplished little against this ring of grafters headed by 
Sullivan. 

Cros. Sullivan is one of the cleverest politicians in this part 
of the country. He's got unlimited backing, and is able to do 
almost anything, and get away with it. 

Bob. What you say is largely true, but we'll get him yet. 
I have a report here from Pinkerton. They have evidence 
enough to cut short his career. The report says that Clark, 
McCarthy and Whitehouse, all of last year's Common Council, 
have stated in the presence of witness that Sullivan offered them 
a bribe for their vote. 

Cros. Yes, I know that is the case. 

Bob. Sullivan has had his fling, but I tell you, Crosby, 
Sullivan's day is at an end. 

Cros. Don't be too sure. I thought I had him cornered 
once myself. He was connected with that gas scandal, and 
just when I had him where I thought he couldn't possibly es- 
cape, and the evidence was direct and overwhelmingly against 
him, he hired a friend to confess and take all the blame, and 
then this friend skipped the country. 

Enter Jim., at r. 

Jim. Two ladies to see you, Mr. Kendrick. 

Bob. Show them in. (^Exit Jim., at r.) Be that as it may. 
If you give a man rope enough he will hang himself. I wish 
you would look into that Lee's case and see if the evidence is 
strong enough to secure a conviction. 

Cros. I'll do that at once. [^Exit at l. 

Enter Jim., at \\., followed by Peg. andVoi.. Exttjm., r. 
Peg. Oh, Mr. Kendrick ! something awful has happened. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



39 



Pol. I just can't believe it possible. 

Peg. Who would have thought they would have had the 
audacity to do it ? 

Pol. And in daylight, too. The house, you know, was 
full of guests, every one of whom I can vouch for. 

Peg. But to think that it happened to both of us the same 
day. At about the same time. (Peg. sits.) In almost the 
same way. 

Pol. It must have been the work of one person. Don't 
you think so, Mr. Kendrick ? 

Bob. I don't know. 

Peg. Why, of course you do. The full account of it was 
in the paper this morning. 

Pol. You don't mean that you haven't heard ? 

Bob. No. 

Peg. Both Polly and I have been robbed. 

Bob. Robbed ! How ? 

Pol. That's what we came to you to find out. 

Bob. How should I know ? 

Peg. Aren't you the District Attorney? Don't you know 
all the bad people? 

Bob. Oh, I see ! I'm to be Sherlock Holmes and find the 
culprit ? 

Pol. Of course. You can do that easy. 

Bob. Oh, yes, that's my side line. Supposing you tell me 
how it happened, and what was taken. 

Peg. Must we tell him our secret, Polly ? 

Pol. Suppose so ; I'll do it. Peggy and I have each lost 
a picture. 

Bob. a picture? You don't mean paintings? 

Peg. No, photographs. 

Pol. Some that no one knew we had had taken. We in- 
tended them as a little surprise to our friends. 

(Bob laughs.) 

Peg. It's no laughing matter, Mr. Kendrick. 

Bob. Pardon me. Was anything else taken ? 

Pol. No. 

Peg. That was all. 

Bob. Doesn't it seem a litde strange that an ordinary thief 
would pass many valuable things? (?eg. stcxrts to speak.) 
Oh, I don't mean that the pictures were not valuable, but such 
things as silver, the jewels on the guests, etc. 



40 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Pol. We never thought of that. 

Peg. Well, weren't we stupid ? 

Bob. Your burglar was not the ordinary kind. I dare 
say we can get the pictures again. 

Pol. Didn't 1 tell you he would be able to help us? 

Peg. No wonder Dorothy likes you so much. 

Bob. Do you think she does ? 

Pol. Well, 1 should say she did. Every time we see her 
she asks us if we have heard of the wonderful things Mr. Ken- 
drick has been doing. And it's always something new. 

Bob. I'm afraid you're jollying me. 

Pol. No, really. 

Peg. Don't, Polly, you'll make him conceited. 

Enter Jim., at Vi,^ followed by Mr. B. 

Jim. Mr. Brownell. 

Bob. Hello, Herb. ; you know these ladies, I believe? 

Mr. B. Yes, indeed {shaking hands), for some time. 
When Pm not camping on some politician's trail I'm the society 
reporter. Got to keep busy somehow. Any clue to your 
robbers ? 

Pol. We were just speaking to Mr. Kendrick about it. He 
tells us we'll get the pictures back again. 

Peg. Ain't that just grand ? 

Mr. B. It will be when you get them. 

Bob. Now don't put me in wrong. 

Pol. (rising). I know you will do what you can. Whether 
you are successful or not let me offer my thanks. 

Peg. And me, too. You won't lose any time, will you ? 

Bob. No, indeed, I'll get right after them. 

Pol. Good-bye, Mr. Kendrick. 

Bob. Good-bye. 

Mr. B. (to Peg.). Can't you fix it up with your burglar so 
he will do another job at your house to-night? If he does the 
chief will send me around to get the news. 

Peg. I'll try. {Shakes hands.) 

Pol. Are you coming, Peggy? 

Peg. Yes ; good-bye, Mr. Brownell. 

Mr. B. ) ^ , , 

Bob. I Good-bye. 

{Exeunt Pol. and Peg., at r. Mr. B. stands looking after 
them with back to Bob.) 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 4 1 

Bob. Herb. 

Mr. B. Yes ; say, she's some girl. 

Bob. What's on your mind besides the girl ? 

Mr. B. Oh, it almost slipped my mind. Bob, you've got 
to do some quick thinking. I've word that Sullivan has got 

something up his sleeve that he intends Well, look what's 

here. {Sees Peg. 's handkerchief in chair ; picks it up and looks 
at it.) I'll tell you about it later. I've got to give this to 
Peggy* (J^t^ns off R.) 

Enter Jim., at R. 

Jim. Mr. Kendrick, I've just got a telephone message from 
my mother. She says my grandmother that died yester- 
day is going to be buried this afternon. I didn't tell you be- 
fore because I thought it was going to be to-morrow afternoon. 

Bob. What was your mother's name before she married? 

Jim. Bowker, I think ma said it was. 

Bob. So your grandmother passed away ? Well, that's too 
bad. What was the disease ? 

Jim. The measles. 

Bob. What did you tell me your grandmother's name 
was? 

Jim. Mrs. O'Connell. 

Bob. Your mother's name was Bowker, and your father's 
mother's name was Burke, and here is another grandmother, 
whose name is Mrs. O'Connell. How's that ? 

Jim. Oh, this mother — is — my stepmother. 

Bob. What time do you want to go ? 

Jim. In about an hour. 

Bob. Well, I guess you can go. Oh, by the way, Jimmie, 
tell me the score in the morning. (Exit Jim. Enter DOR. 
and Aunt H.) My ! but this is a pleasant surprise ! 

{Shakes hands with both.) 

Dor. We're not intruding on your time, are we ? 

Bob. Not at all. I was just wishing I had something to 
keep me busy for a few minutes. 

Aunt H. Dorothy has been telling me so much about your 
cozy offices, that I wanted very much to come up and see 
them. 

Bob. I'm glad you did. There is not much to see here, 
but from the window in Mr. Crosby's office you can see a 



42 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

large part of the city, and part of the lake. Step in here, and 

Mr. Crosby will 

\_Exeunt Aunt H. and Bob, at l. Bob returns at once. 

Dor. I'm so glad to see you, Bob. 

Bob. Are you? It does seem an awful long while since 
last night. 

Dor. I believe I lay awake most of the night, thinking 
how happy we shall be. 

Bob. Don't you think I'm a lucky chap? 

Dor. That's for you to say. 

Bob. Well, I do say it, and I've got the ring here to prove 
it. {Produces ring.') 

Dor. Oh, isn't that a dream ! How can I ever express my 
thanks. 

Bob. Don't try to. Let me. {Enter ^v-l.) What do you 
mean by coming in here this way ? 

SuL. {shaking fist at Bob). Never mind ! never mind ! 
I'll wait out here, but I want to see you. \^Exity at R. 

Dor. What is the matter with Mr. Sullivan ? 

Bob. I don't know what is the matter with him, but he 
acts as though he was the District Attorney, and I was the 
office-boy. 

Dor. Bobbie, all the newspapers the past week have been 
talking about Sullivan having strings on the District Attorney. 
That isn't true, is it? 

Bob. You know me better than that. No one has any 
strings on me, unless it is you, and they will soon be tied in a 
knot. 

Dor. I hope so, Bob; in a knot that will never be undone. 
I don't suppose I ought to say so, but I dishke Mr. Sullivan. 
He seems to have a great deal of influence with father. 

Bob. Yes, I know he has. 

Dor. Indeed, how do you know? 

Bob. Well, I — that is, I understand he has. 

Dor. When I arrived home from Mrs. Boutwell's reception 
last Wednesday night, I went into the library to get one of Mr. 
McCutcheon's books, and there I saw father and Mr. Sullivan 
engaged in earnest conversation. Before I could withdraw, I 
heard Mr. Sullivan say, <'If he gets a hold of that, it will be 
all up with us." Then father said, '^ If we lose that ninety- 
nine year charter, our bonds will go to next to nothing." 

Bob. I'm afraid you must have been eavesdropping. 

Dor. No, really, I wasn't. But the best of it was, I got 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



43 



out without being seen ; what I heard worried me so that I 
hardly slept a wink for the next two or three nights. Of 
course, what I have told you you won't use against father in 
any way. Perhaps Auntie and 1 had better be going now. 

Bob. There is no need to hurry. Just step in Mr. Crosby's 
office with your aunt, until I see Sullivan ; you mustn't worry 
over what you have heard. All things come out right in the 
end. (^Exit Dor., l. Bob touches button. Enter Jim.) 
Tell Mr. Sullivan I will see him now. [^Exit Jim. 

Enter SuL. and Mr. S. 

SuL. I guess the pink tea is over now, Seabury. 

Mr. S. What pink tea is 

Bob (coolly). I should judge by the way you came in here 
a few minutes ago, Mr. Sullivan, you had something very im- 
portant to see me about. 

SuL. You know what I want to see you about. 

Mr. S. Yes, we want to see you about the lie you have 
trumped up about the Seabury Packing Company stealing the 
city's water through secret mains. 

Bob. Whether that is a lie or not, we'll soon find out. 
You were present at every session of the court, as well as I. 
The evidence, as you must know, is strong. All that remains 
before the case goes to the jury is my summing up. 

SuL. What do you expect to gain, Kendrick? Even if 
you secure a conviction ? 

Bob. Personally, nothing ; as District Attorney, justice. 

Mr. S. Justice ! What do you think you are, an angel? 

SuL. Now see here, Kendrick, you might just as well 
understand me first as last. I want you to nol. pros, this case 
against Seabury for lack of evidence. Browning, the superin- 
tendent of the water department, is willing to swear that he 
was the one who put those pipes into Seabury's plant, and that 
the meter was left out by mistake. 

Mr. S. Yes, and that's the truth, Kendrick. It was my 
money, and Sullivan's influence, that put you in this office. 
The people like you. Chicago will shortly be looking for a 
new mayor, and there is no reason why you shouldn't be 
elected, if you stand by those who stood by you at the last 
election. 

SuL. If it hadn't been for my backing, you would never 
have been where you are now. 

Bob. That's a damnable lie, and you know it. Your plan 



44 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

was to run me on the Republican ticket, and split Crosby's 
vote, and have Danny Murray elected, a man whom you could 
have controlled. But your plan failed. Whether this case is 
strong or not, it goes to the jury. Individually, Sullivan, this 
doesn't imphcate you, but I have had just brought to my 
attention the fact that you used illegal methods to change the 
Terminal Company's charter to read from twenty years to 
ninety-nine years. 

Mr. S. What ! 

SuL. Illegal methods I There were no illegal methods used 
that I know of. 

Bob. Oh, yes, you do; there's no need to deny it. Crosby 
has turned states' evidence, and I have all the facts in the case. 
All I need to put you all behind the bars is the name of the 
third party who acted with you gentlemen. 

Mr. S. Oh, is that all you want to know ? 

SuL. So Crosby wouldn't tell you, eh ? Well, I will. 
You needn't worry about putting us behind the bars, or of 
pressing this other case against Seabury. You have started 
out in a brave endeavor to wipe out graft, but don't worry 
about graft, Kendrick ; that third party was your father. 

Bob. Father ! My father ! It's a lie. I don't believe it. 

Mr. S. Believe it or not, just as you wish. It's the truth. 

Bob {pressing button. Enter Jim.). Tell Mr. Crosby to 
step in here a minute. {Exit Jim. To Sul.) We'll soon 
find out whether that's true or not. {Enter Cros.) Mr. 
Sullivan tells me that the third party in the terminal case was 
my father. Is it true ? 

Cros. Yes. 

Bob. That is all. [Exit Cros., l. 

Sul. I guess we can be going, Seabury. Those cases will 
never come to trial. {Picks up coat. Exit, R.) 

Bob. Just a minute, gentlemen. 

Mr. S. Mr. Sullivan has gone ; do you wish to speak to 
me? 

Bob. I wish to speak to both of you, but I will say my say 
to you. 

Mr. S. Since you have been District Attorney, you have 
unjustly persecuted me, with the end in view of hurting my 
business. 

Bob. No, not unjust persecution, but investigation and 
prosecution of a just nature. I believe the people of Chicago, 
if they knew the rottenness of the meat you send out to them 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 45 

for food, would rise up in righteous indignation, and demand 
your retirement from the Seabury Packing Company. 

Mr. S. ^ There are some fifty odd inspectors at my plant, 
whose business it is to protect the people from diseased meat. 

Bob. All the authority these inspectors have is to see that 
the diseased meat is kept within the state. There are only 
three inspectors to inspect the meat sold in all the cities of the 
state. Mr. Sullivan evidently left this office with the idea that 
the cases against you and him would be nol-prosed, but that's 
the biggest mistake Sullivan ever made. 

Mr. S. You can't frighten me with that bluff. Do you 
know that if you bring that Terminal Company case to trial 
you will show up the graft your father was connected with and 
bring disgrace upon your family name? 

Bob. Mr. Seabury, I intend to do my part toward the 
stamping out of graft. Even if my father was alive my course 
would be the same as it will be now. I will not rest until you 
and Sullivan are brought to justice. That means prison for 
both of you. 

Mr. S. Prison ! You don't mean that. That's a bluff. 
It won't work. Come, let's get together. My reputation is at 
stake and means as much to me as your father's does to you. 

Bob. Stop ! Don't you dare to suggest that. My father 
may have done wrong, but it doesn't run in the family. Is 
there no end to what you would do ? God help the employees 
of corporations who have for officers men such as you. Men 
without scruples, men without hearts, men almost without 
souls. 

Mr. S. Are you a deacon or the District Attorney? Don't 
attempt to judge me ; that's not in your power. I doubt you 
can prove your case in spite of what you say. 

Bob. You know better than that. You know the case is 
as clear as day. You know what the results will be. You 
can't deny it. There's no way out. 

Mr. S. Yes, there is. There is one way you haven't 
thought of. You think you've got me. Think you will win 
your case and put me in jail, but you're wrong. {Goes to 
door at r.) You may win, but you won't get me in jail. 
Mark my words. 

{Exit at R. ; slams door. Bob stands facing door.) 
Enter Dor., at l. 



46 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Dor. Bob, wasn't that father's voice I heard in here a 
minute ago ? 

Bob. Now, you mustn't ask. 

Dor. I know it was. You both raised your voices. Are 
matters as bad as the papers say? Oh, they can't be. (Pistol 
shot heard off stage at r.) What's that ? 

(Bob and Dor. go off r. Stage empty. Bob again enters, r. 
Goes to 'phone.') 

Bob. Main 95 Dr. Morton, can you come right over to 

the court-house ? A gentleman has shot himself and seems to 
be in a dying condition. 

Enter Cros., at r. 

Cros. He's dead. 
Bob. Dead ! 

Enter Dor., a/ r.. Aunt H., at l. 

Dor. Out of my way ! I want my aunt. You traitor ! 
You threatened father with what I told you. I hate you ! 
Oh, how I hate you 1 



CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE.-— r/!<? same as Act /. 

(Stage darky with Howard Calvert asleep in chair. Enter 
Dor., c. Turns on lights. At the same time the clock 
strikes six loudly from l. How. springs to his feet in a 
defensive attitude, imagining himself in boxing-ring.) 

Dor. What on earth is the matter with you, Howard ? 

How. I guess I thought I had Jeffries in the ring with me. 

Dor. Are you taking boxing lessons ? 

How. A regular gymnastic course. That includes boxing, 

though. 

Dor. That's nice. Who is your mstructor ? 
How. Professor Dooley. We nicknamed him M. De Ooley. 
Dor. How does he like that ? 

How. Oh, he doesn't know it. But say, you ought to see 
him. He is all chest and muscle. When he gets up to the 
punching bag he makes that old thing talk. It goes bang-it-ty, 
bang, bang, bang ! {Enter Bev. Stands in doorway at R.) 
And when he puts up a one hundred and fifty pound dumb-bell 
the muscles of his arm stand out like whip-cords. That's the 
way I'm going to have my arms some day. 

Bev. Is Howard bothering you with his gymnasium talk ? 

Dor. Not at all. 

How. Oh, wouldn't that jar you! Just when you and 1 
were having a nice conversation, Beverly has to butt m and 
queer it. I wish she was a brother, anyway. 

Bev. I won't bother you after to-night. 

Dor. He'll miss you when you're gone. 

How. Well, I won't miss you to-night, for I'm a good 
shot. I've got all the old boots in the neighborhood and five 
pounds of rice. 

Dor Why, Howard, you are a regular little pirate. 

How. I'm not half the pirate that Dick is, for I never stole 
a fellow's sister. 

Bev. No, but you will some day. 

How. Not if I know it. Gee I I'm glad I'm free. No 
wedding bells for me. j^ 1' ^* 

Dor It doesn't seem possible that this is your wedding day. 

47 



48 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Bev. I know it doesn't; I can hardly believe it myself. 
Lei's see; it's half- past five now. What else is there for us to 
do ? Dick has taken care of the trunks and there is only the 
packing of the three suit-cases left. 

Dor. Aunt Hattie will help us pack those. 

Bev. Yes, she's a dear. She has helped me so much. 

Dor. I don't know what we would do without her. Come 
now, take me into your confidence and tell me about your trip. 

Bev. Oh, I must not. I'm afraid Dick might not like it. 

Dor. Oh, but he will never know. I'll not tell. Honest 
I won't. Really. 

Bev. Dick is so afraid the boys at the college will be up to 
some of their pranks. Why, you know they kidnapped a 
bridegroom only last year. Wouldn't it be just awful if they 
should do that to Dick ? But I know they couldn't do that. 
Dick is so big and strong — and nice. 

Dor. If I guess where you're going, will you tell me? 

Bev. I suppose I might as well tell you now, for you'll 
tease me into it, anyway. We're going East. 

Dor. To the seashore ? 

Bev. Well, no, not exactly. We're going to Boston first. 
We expect to spend a few days at Mrs. Clark's home at Man- 
chester-by-the-sea. Then we're going up into the mountains. 

Dor. I know you will have a good time up there, but I 
should think you would go to the seashore. I know I should. 

Bev. When you go on your honeymoon you won't want to 
go where there is one continuous round of entertaining. You 
will rather be in the country or on the mountains ; in the rustic 
camp with the big world around, but not near you. Quiet, 
restful, beautiful to lover's eyes. At night around the camp- 
fire, watching the twinkling stars through the waving tree-tops. 
The day spent in the woods and on the lakes. Wait until you 
plan yours; you'll understand. 

Dor. I'll never have any honeymoon. I've decided to de- 
vole my life and fortune to charity. 

Bev. I realize, Dorothy, that this is a delicate subject, and 
I dislike to speak about it. I have hoped — we all have hoped 
— trusted all through these twelve months that — that we could 
some day see you and Bob happily married. 

Enter Aunt H., at c. 

Dor. Married !— Bob and I? Oh, it can't be. It can't. 
How could I marry a man who betrayed my confidence and 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



49 



trust ? He used the information that I was foolish enough to 
tell him as the instrument which forced my father to take his 
life. 

Aunt H. Dorothy ! 

Dor. Yes, Auntie. 

Aunt H. I think you have treated Mr. Kendrick very 
unfairly; you have not even given him a chance to explain. 
The poor boy has called at the house dozens of times, but you 
would not see him. 

Dor. There is nothing to explain. He chose his course. 
Now he must abide by the results. 

Aunt H. I do not think Mr. Kendrick was directly respon- 
sible for your father's death. You should take the same view 
of the matter as Dick and I do. Dick certainly bears no ill-will 
toward Bob, or he would not have asked him to be his best 
man. 

Dor. Dick is young and hardly knows his own mind. He 
is very easily influenced. 

Bev. Indeed ! You don't do Dick justice. He's strong- 
minded. 

Dor. That all depends on one's view-point. 

Aunt H. Both you and Dick take after your father, and 
have wills of your own. But in this case you seem to have 
gone to the extreme. 

Bev. I'm not criticizing Bob in any way. It seems to me 
that after every other avenue of reaching you had been ex- 
hausted he should try to explain the matter by letter. 

Dor. I do not see why you should plead Mr. Kendrick's 
cause. He did write me a letter. As soon as I saw it was 
from him, I gave it to the flames without reading it. 

Aunt H. Is it possible ? 

Bev. {walking to Dor.). Dorothy, you're a heartless crea- 
ture. Why, I almost fear for Mr. Kendrick's safety to-night» 
You won't hurt Dick's best man, will you ? 

Dor. Well, I'll spare his life to-night. 

Bev. I want to say now what I have felt for the last few 
days. (Dor. starts to interrupt.) Please don't interrupt 
me. That is, how can I ever thank you and Aunt Hattie for 
the kindness you have bestowed upon me ? 

Dor. Beverly, you know we are happy. 

Bev. Please, I must thank you. After that awful fire at the 
hotel, you opened your home to us, servants and all. Oh,, it 
was so good. I want you to know I appreciate it. 



50 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Dor. I know you do — sister. 

Aunt H. I don't want to hurry you girls, but if you wish 
sufficient time to dress we had better start packing the suit- 
cases now. 

Bev. Yes, I am a little anxious. 

Dor. You must not be nervous. When the minister asks 
the all important question, answer in a good clear tone, ''I 
do." \_Exaint Aunt H., Bev., Dor., at R. 

Enter Billy and Peg., at c. 

Billy (very nervous'). I've got something I want to say to 
you, Peggy. 

Peg. It doesn't seem to me, Billy, that it was very nice of 
you to ask Mr. Brownell to wait down-stairs. It is hardly what 
I expected of you. 

Billy. I don't blame you for rubbing it into me, but I 
wanted to tell you 

Peg. Yes, I know you do. Come over here and sit down 
(crossing to sofa), and let me hear all about it. 

Billy. You know they say charity 

Peg. Well, who would have thought you would have taken 
up with charity work ? And so you want to interest me, too. 
I suppose you want me to do some slum work ? 

Billy. Not exactly. It isn't that; you see 

Peg. Maybe 'tis Floating Hospital, Litde Wanderers' 
Home, the Blind Asylum. It isn't the Salvation Army, is it, 
Billy? 

Billy. Salvation Army nothing. What do you think I am ? 
A religious fanatic? I'm not talking of charities; I simply 
want to convince you 

Peg. I don't need to be convinced. I already believe in 
them. What can I do to help ? 

Billy. Don't do anything. Just sit there and listen, and 
give me a chance. I never saw a woman who could talk so 
much as you can. You ought to be a suffragette. You'd be 
a corker at delivering speeches. 

Peg. Oh, do you really think so? I'm so interested in the 
subject. I always wanted to be a great orator. (Stands up.) 
To stand on some raised platform, to see crowded round me 
multitudes of people, the expressions on their faces telling me 
that they were waiting eagerly for what I was to say. And I, 
with my mighty power of persuasion, would so move them that 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 5! 

they would do and vote as I wished them to. Wouldn't that 
be great? {Pause.) Why don't you answer nie ? 

Billy. Well, I've been talking so much 1 thought I'd give 
you a chance. But as long as my time has come I guess I'll 
lake it. I was going to ask your advice on a little 

Peg. Business matter ? Are you going to start in business 
for yourself? I always told mother you had something in you, 
and that it would come out some time. 

Billy. Yes, I know. And I've been trying to get it out 
for the last half hour, but it's still there. Now, Peggy, I want 
you to do something hard ; just sit still and be quiet. Peggy, 
I love 

Peg. To play golf. Well, I don't blame you, for I think 
it is a rather fascinating game. You know, of course, that 
George Reynolds is a fine player. 

Billy. Oh, hang George Reynolds and golf, too. I want 
to tell you that I love 

Enter Mr. B., at c. 

Mr. B. To keep me waiting. Now own up, Billy. Don't 
you? 

Billy. Nothing of the sort. I — I — hang it, I don't know. 

Peg. I'm glad you came up, Herbert. Billy has been 
abusing me. He wouldn't let me talk. 

Mr. B. Hadn't we better tell Billy our secret? (Peg. 
nods assent.) Don't you think this is to be the only wedding 
this year. There's to be another in September. 

Billy {to Peg.). Please accept my best wishes for years of 
happiness. 

Peg. Thanks. 

Billy (Jo Mr. B.). Congratulations. (Both shake hands. 
Exeunt Peg. and Mr. B., at c.) If any one had told me this 
afternoon that I was a dead one, gee, there would have been 
war. But now, bring on the undertaker. — No need of being 
discouraged. I don't love Peggy, anyhow. It's Polly. This 
just clears the atmosphere. I'll hunt up Polly. {Goes toR.) 

Enter Pol. 

Pol. Have you seen Peggy ? 
Billy. Yes, they just went down-stairs. 
Pol. They? Oh, I know. {Pause.) Oh, Billy, I got 
some great news for you. 



52 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



Billy. Yes ? What is it ? 

Pol. I'm engaged. 

Billy. What ! Well, what do you know about that I 

Pol. Why don't you congratulate me? Aren't you glad ? 

Billy. Oh, I'm tickled to pieces; who is the lucky man? 

Pol. George Reynolds. He wrote and asked me. I tele- 
graphed the answer. He'll be here to-night. I'm going to 
find Peggy. [JSxif, c. 

Billy {thinking). I'd try one. If she turned me down, 
I'd ask the other. If she said no — well, this town is on the 
edge of a mighty big lake. Nothing doing — I don't know how 
to swim. 

Enter Sam, q..^ followed by Dick. 

Sam. Dis way, Massa Dick. 

Dick. Tell Beverly I'm here on time. 

Sam. Yes, sir; yes, sir. Is dat all, Massa Dick? \^Exit. 

Billy. It's good to be on time, Dick. We've only got 
about two hours to wait. 

Dick. Well, what time is it? 

Billy. Quarter past six. 

Dick. I wonder what is keeping Bob. He bet me a cigar 
he would be here before I would. 

Billy. Bob is where he usually is — in the court-house. 

Dick. What time is it ? 

Billy. Six-twenty. 

Dick. What's Bob up to now? Anything special? 

Billy. Well, I should smile. To-night's papers are full 
of that speech he made to the jury, which lasted six hours. 

Dick. What time is it now ? 

Billy. What time is it ? Do you want me to wear my 
watch out ? It's six twenty-two and about a half. 

Dick. What case is that Bob is interested in now ? 

Billy. That Terminal Company case. By this evening's 
Herald it looks as though the company would lose its charter 
and Sullivan go to jail. 

Dick. With all respect to my father, Sullivan, Old Man 
Kendrick and he, were the biggest bunch of grafters that ever 
lived. Hasn't that clock of yours moved any yet? What 
time is it ? 

Billy. You'll drive me crazy. Six-thirty. 

Enter Sam, followed by Bob. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



53 



Sam. Yes, sir, dey are in here. [Exii. 

Bob, Hello, fellows. I guess the cigar is yours, Dick. I'll 
have to owe it to you. I haven't one with me. 

Billy. Yes, he'll get it for you, Dick, when he goes down 
to the rope factory. 

Dick. What time is it, Bob ? 

Bob. Six-thirty. 

Dick. What ! That's what Billy said half an hour ago. 

Bob. I guess his clock is wrong. 

Billy. This isn't a clock, this is an Ingersoll watch. I 
hear you have been cutting up down at the court-house again 
to-day, Bob. What is going to happen to Sullivan now ? 

Bob. Nothing. He goes scot free. Oh, I knew it would 
be somewhat of a surprise ; it was to me. 

Billy. The papers had it that you secured a conviction in 
the Terminal Company case. 

Bob. We did. The Terminal Company's charter is to run 
only for twenty years. And as it expires this year I don't im- 
agine the City Council will renew it without the company make 
some of the many needed improvements. 

Dick. So Sullivan wasn't convicted? Looks as if some 
money had reached the 

Bob. I'm not in a position to say that. It is rather queer 
that the act should be considered illegal, but that the man who 
was responsible for it should not be held so. 

Billy. What are you going to do ? Surely you won't let 
matters rest here ? 

Dick. You've got to get him somehow. 

Bob. It can't be done. When the supreme court passes 
judgment on a case like this, that is the end of it. 

Dick. Well, I suppose it is as you say. Billy, what time 
is it? 

Billy. For heaven's sake, Dick, where is your watch? 

Dick. I forgot to wear it. You needn't be so stingy with 
your time. 

Billy. It's twenty minutes of seven. Don't ask me again 
for an hour. We've got some instructions to give you. When 
you are walking down the aisle leaning on Bob's arm, don't 
stick your other hand in your pocket, and don't make faces at 
the minister. Oh, yes, about kissing the bride 

Bob. Oh, Dick, can you do that all right ? 

(Aunt H. appears in centre doorway,) 



54 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



Billy. I don't believe he can. Bob. Now, Dick, listen to 
this. If you want to kiss her sv*reetly, very neatly, and com- 
pletely; if you want to kiss her so's to kiss her nice, if you 
really want to kiss her, make a dodge or two and miss her, then 
kiss her on the kisser once or twice. 

AUiNT H. Good-evening, boys. I see you are here early. 

Billy. Dick was afraid we would be late. I went out to 
meet him ; he made me run the last two blocks. I thought I 
would never get my wind back. 

Dick. What time is it ? 

Enter Sam, c. 

Sam. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Kendrick, a 
fellow with a big voice, a Mr. Sullivan, is in the reception 
room and would like to see you. Shall I show him up ? 

Bob. Wants the pleasure of saying I told you so. No, I 
do not care to see him. — Wait. You'd better show him up. 

Dick. Sullivan ! 1 guess we don't care about seeing 
Sullivan, do we, Billy ? Let's go down for a smoke. 

Billy. That's us. \_Exeiint Dick and Billy, c. 

Bob {to Aunt H.). Is Dorothy here ? 

Aunt H. Yes ; she is up-stairs with Beverly, dressing. 

Bob. Can't you arrange some way so I can have a few 
minutes alone with her ? 

Aunt H. I don't know. I have done everything I can, 
but she will not see you. 

Bob. Can't you? Isn't there someway? Tell her Dick 
has arrived and is down here. I must see her. I never can go 
through the ceremony as Dick's best man and have her believe 
me false to her trust. 

Aunt H. I don't know, Bob. I'll do what I can, but don't 
hope for too much. \^Exity at R. 

Sam {at c). Mr. Sullivan, sir. 

SuL. If you don't mind, we'll excuse the nigger. 

Bob. All right, Sam. 

Sam. Yes, sir. \^Exity at c. 

SuL. Mr. Kendrick, I've come to you to-night upon a 
peculiar errand. But before I come to that, I wish you would 
answer me one question. Do you really believe, had you put 
me in jail, it would have helped to stop political corruption ? 

Bob. I most certainly do. And in spite of what the court 
said, you know that you deserve it. I don't understand how 
you got off. 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 55 

SUL. That's what I'm here to tell you. But first, why do 
you put all the blame of this crooked work in the Terminal 
Company on me ? Seabury and your father were just as much 
in for it as I was. It was your father starting this that enabled 
him to send you through college, and to leave you a fortune. 

(Dor. stands in doorway?) 

Bob. Mr. Seabury is dead, and has passed beyond the 
arms of the law. If he were alive, he would have had to stand 
trial as you did. In my father's case, my course would have 
been exactly the same. If it were possible, I would return 
every penny of the fortune he left to where it came from, and 
throw my education to the wind. {Exit Dor. Pause. ^ But 
please come to the point. 

SuL. My point is this. You and every other man who has 
started out to reform a city has made a failure of it. Why ? 
Because you all have attacked the politician. That has been 
your mistake. 

Bob. Mistake to attack men such as you ? Surely you're 
joking. 

SuL. No. I repeat it. What makes us politicians engage 
m graft ? The fun of it ? 

Bob. No, the money. 

SuL. Yes, the money. But who supplies it ? That's the 
point. And why? The privileged class. Corporations that 
want laws passed in their favor. Big business that has an axe 
to grind. Big business that uses the politicians of both parties 
for their playthings. Then ask these politicians in turn to use 
the people, to throw sand in their eyes, and make them think 
black is white. 

Bob. But why do you tell 

SuL. Hear me through. Had the court held me guilty to- 
day I would have been in jail now, with my political career 
over. You didn't win your case in that sense. But you did 
win. I'm through with graft. I'm going east for good. Un- 
less 

Bob. Unless what ? 

SuL. Unless you want me to stay here and use the same 
machine to elect you governor, so that we can go after the real 
cause. Big business that want their own laws. 

Bob. Do you mean it ? 

SuL. You may think I can't play fair. {Pushes hell.) 
But I can. Never have I broken my word, and never will I. 



56 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Bob. What has come over you ? Can I trust you ? 

Enter Sam, c. 

SuL. Send Mr. Brownell up here. 

Sam. Yes, sir. [Exit, 

SuL. Trust me ! Yes. I have made a complete confession 
of my connection with graft. Here it is. It also contains the 
proposition I am making to you. If you say the word, I'll give 
it to Brownell. It will be in to-morrow's Tribune^ with every- 
thing made plain to the people, and my pledge to do the square 
thing. Kendrick, I mean business. 

Enter Mr. B., c. 

Mr. B. Sam said you wanted to see me. 

SuL. I have here a confession and a pledge. That will 
make good head-lines for the morning Tribune. Mr. Kendrick 
wants you to take it to the office at once. It may mean some- 
thing to you. 

Mr. B. Is that right, Bob? 

Bob. Yes. 

Mr. B. Gee, this is great ! Thanks. [Exii^ c. 

Bob. If you play square, there is no limit to what we can 
do. 

SuL. There is a certain gentleman who says that judges 
should be elected by tlie people, and recalled for cause. I 
don't know but what he is right. That's where Special 
Interests will make their last stand. We have got to have the 
judiciary clean. I'm going now ; we will get together to-morrow 
{both out at c.) and talk things over. 

Enter Dick and Billy, at c. 

Dick. It just seems as if all the clocks in the house just 
stood still. What time is it ? 

Billy. Never mind what time it is. If you don't get your 
mind on something other than this wedding, you will be a 
nervous wreck. Let's talk about Sullivan. 

Dick. Oh, we have finished him, or rather Bob has. Con- 
found it, I won't talk about anything unless you tell me the 
time. 

Enter Dor., c. 
Dor. Hello, Billy. {Goes over to Dick.) Well ! 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



57 



Dick. Well. 

Dor. Did you want to see me ? 

Dick. No. No more than I always do. Who said I did ? 
How's Beverly ? 

Dor. She's all right ; she looks almost like an angel, and she 
is one, too. You're a lucky boy, Dick, to get such a fine girl 
as Beverly. But Auntie said you wanted to see me. 

Dick. I said nothing. (Billy putiches Dick.) Oh, yes. 

I wanted you to — what was it I wanted you Oh, here's 

a new piece Billy wanted you to play over for us. 

Dor. I ought to be with Beverly, but I'll steal a minute or 
so to play for you. (Dor. sits at piano and plays, <' When I 
marry you^ After song. Bob appears in doorway. Exeunt 
Dick and Billy.) How do you like that ? 

Bob. It's quite pretty. 

Dor. I — why, I — where are the boys ? 

Bob. Oh, they just stepped out. 

Dor. If I don't hurry, Beverly will think I am lost. You'll 
excuse me, Mr. Kendrick ? 

Bob. Not just yet. I won't keep you long. 

Dor. Indeed, / have something to say about that. 

Bob. I guess you can spare me a couple of minutes. Dor- 
othy, we are going to make up and get married, aren't we? 

Dor. (closing eyes). No ! 

Bob. You love me ; you can't hide it. I can see it in your 
eyes. 

Dor. No, you can't ; my eyes are closed. 

Bob. There is no need of going on in this way. You are 
making your life miserable as well as mine. (Takes hold of 
her.) Dorothy, I want you to say yes — y-e-s — yes ! 

Dor. (hesitating). Y-e-s. 

(As Bob and Dof. embrace, How. enters,) 

How. Gee, that's better than a prize-fight. 
Dor. (blushing). Oh, Howard ! 
How. Beverly, Beverly, come — come quick ! 
Dor. (stamping foot). Howard ! 

Bob (/^ Dor.). Come now, Dorothy, be a brave girl. Face 
the music. 

Enter Billy, Sam, Dick and Bev. 

Bev. Why, Howard, what do you want? 



58 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

How. I think that something is going to happen. 
Dick. Say, does anybody know what time it is ? 
How. (^pointing to Dor. and Bob). Half-past kissing time. 
Time to kiss again. 

(Sam bursts out laughing.^ 

Dor. {stamping foot ), Howard ! 
Bob {to Dor.). Face the music. 

How. {to Bev.). I saw Mr. Kendrick and 

Dor. {stamping foot). Howard! 

How. And Miss Seabury hugging just like this. 

{Hugs back of chair.) 

Dick. What time is it ? 

Bev. It's time to find out what all this hugging is about. 
Come now, Dorothy, tell me, have you and Bobby 

Bob. Yes, we have. Miss Calvert. We shall be pleased to 
play doubles in the wedding tournament of the evening. Miss 
Seabury and I will stand you and Mr. Seabury. 

Sam. Let me be de umpire. 

How. No, let me. 

Sam {laughing). Law's sake, we can have de double 
umpire system. 

Bev. {embracing Dor.). Dorothy, didn't you tell me only 
two hours ago that you were never going to get married, but 
that you were going to devote your life and fortune to charity ? 

Dor. Isn't Bobby good fortune for me, and isn't charity 
love? 

How. Congratulations, old man, hearty congratulations. 
Are you going to the mountains, the seashore, or back to the 
woods ? 

Bob. Howard, I'm going up into the clouds. 

Dick. Well, Dorothy, you're as wise as you are handsome. 
I'm going to give you a hug. You don't mind, Beverly, do 
you? Dorothy, we both might just as well have a little 
practice. 

Bev. {to Bob, hugging him). So can we, can't v»^e ? Bob, 
may you have, oh — so happy a life. 

(Peg. and Pol. at c.) 

Pol. What are you all celebrating ? 

Peg. I believe that it has happened. The best thing of all. 
Has it, Dorothy ? 



THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 



59 



Dor. Yes. 

Dick. Say, what time is it ? 

Billy {;ivho has stood meekly down stage). It's time for 
somebody to hug me. 

(Sam laughs and starts to hug Billy, when bell rings. Exit 
Sam. All quiet.') 

Sam {reentering). De Reverend Clergyman am arrived, 
and he is down in de parlor. 

How. Hurrah for the wedding-bells ! 

Bev. Howard ! 

Dick. The time has arrived. Beverly, my arm. 

Dor. Come, Bobby, nothing is the matter with my arm 
to-night. 

Billy. Come, hurry up there. Bob, or I'll jump and steal 
a march on you. 

Peg. This is the last time we can rehearse before the cere- 
mony. {To Pol.) My arm, Mr. Reynolds. 

Pol. {to Peg.). Certainly. My arm, Mr. Brownell. 

How. Squad, fall in ! Sergeant, attention ! 

Sam. I'se here, Cap'n. 

How. Charge bayonets ! 

Dor. Why, we are not going to war ! 

Sam. Law's sake ! Miss Dorothy, you don't know whether 
you is or not. 

Bev. Howard, you behave. This is no prize-fight. 

How. You may have one, sister, by and by. 

Dick. Come, hurry up. Sergeant, start up the wedding 
band. 

Sam. Shuah 'nuff. {To leader of orchestra.) Mr. John- 
son, can you play us some soft, dulcet, love-sick strain ? 

{Orchestra plays Wedding March.) 

How. Forward, march ! 

(How. and Sam lead march.) 

Sam {pushing How. out of the way). Age before beauty 
and kids. 

{March order : Sam, How., Peg. and Pol., Bev. and Dick, 
Bob and Dor., Billy and Aunt H.) 

Enter Aunt H. 



6o THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 

Aunt H. Why, what is this ? 

Billy {inUrrupiifig). You come right in and march with 
me. Nobody loves me. I'm the ivorst man at this wedding. 
Well; all right. {Takes hold of Aunt H.'s arm.) If you 
want to kiss her sweetly, very neatly and completely, if you 
want to kiss her so's to kiss her nice ; if you really want to kiss 
her, make a dodge or two and miss her, then kiss her on the 
kisser once or twice. 



CURTAIN 



New Plays 



THE COUNTRY MINISTER 

A COMEDY-DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS 



By Ai'thur Lewis Tuhhs 



AUTHOB OF "VALLEY FARM," " WILLOWDALE," "THE PENALTY OP 
PBIDE," ETC. 

Eight males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery not difficult. 
Plays a full evening. A very sympathetic piece, of powerful dramatic in- 
terest; strong and varied comedy relieves the serious plot, as iu this author's 
"Valley Farm," to admirers of which this play is recommended. Ralph 
Underwood, the minister, is a jjreat part, and Roxy a strong soubrette ; all 
parts are good and full of opportunity. Scenes are laid about equally in city 
and country. This will be the " hit '"' of the coming year, and Clubs will do 
well to secure early copies. Clean, bright and strongly recommended. 

Price, 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 

Rev. Ralph Underwood, the coun- V^illiam Henry. 

try minister. Tom Sparrow. 

Gregory Heath, of the world at Mr. Filkins, an officer, 

large. Helen Burleigh, /rom <Ae ct7y. 

JUD Pardoe, a wreck on the ocean of Jerusha Jane Judkins, the post- 
life, mis frets. 

Timothy Hodd, who would rather Roxy, " a fresh air kid." 

whittle than work. Granny Ghimes. 

Deacon Potter, *'just a trifle deef." Fanny, a maid. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Yard of Miss Judkins's store and postoflBce, Mullen ville, N. Y., 
on a morning in August. 

Act II. — Same as Act I, half an hour later. 

Act III. — Granny Grimes's garret, on the East Side, New York City, 
the following November. 

Act IV. — Miss Burleigh's home in New York, the same evening. 

Act V. — Back at Mullenville, in Miss Judkins's sitting-room. One 
month has elapsed. 



TVf ELFTH NIGHT 

Bj/ William Shakespeare 

A comedy in Five Acts. Ten males, three females. Costumes, pictur- 
esque; scenery, varied. Plays a full evening. A new acting version of this 
•omedy, based on the prompt-book of Miss Julia Marlowet 



Price, 15 cents 



New Plays 



THE MISSING MISS MILLER 

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 

By Harold A. Clarke 

Six males, five females. Scenery, two interiors ; costumes modern. 
Plays a full evening. A bright and up-to-date farce-comedy of the liveliest 
type. All the parts good ; full of opportunity for all hands. Hymen's Ma- 
trimonial Bureau is the starting point of a good plot and the scene of lots 
of funny incident. Easy to produce and strongly recommended. Good 
tone ; might answer for schools, but is a sure hit for amateur theatricals. 
Professional stage rights reserved. 

Price, 25 cents 
CHARACTERS 

Hymen Trottble, manager of the San Sherlaw Combs, Sleuth, friend of 

Francisco Matrimonial Agency. Buckskin. 

ScoTTYBvcKSKi-s,a cowboy fro7n Bar Gwendolyn Dasheorth, niece to 

J^ Ranch, Texas. Colonel Penuckle. 

Colonel B, Penuckle, from Pacific Bostonia Joughnz, friend of Owen- 
Avenue, dolyn. 

FeterD. Q. WvRDZ, of the staffof the Mrs. Losta Mann, housekeeper for 

San Francisco Daily Yahoo. the Colonel. 

Dr. Faunce Rhinestone;, who keeps Cassie Pauline Skidoo, an auihor- 

an auto. ess of the vitense school. 

Tessie Tapp, a typist. 

Costumes, modern. 

SYNOPSIS 

ACT I. —The marriage bureau, Powell Street, San Francisco. 

ACT II.— Home of Colonel B. Penuckle, Pacific Avenue, San Francisco. 

ACT III. — The marriage bureau. 



CAMILLE 

A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS 

From the French of Alexandre Dumas, Fils, 
By Mildred Aldrich 

Nine males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, varied. F'ays 
a full evening. A new acting version of fchis pcp'ilar plaj , vdth fuH .<»ta*te 
business. A complete working prompt-book. Strongly recommendea. 

Price, 15 cents 



New Publications 



THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By J. Hartley Manners 

Eight males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two interiors, 
not difficult. Well suited for amateur performance. Plays a full evening. 
This admirable play, made popular for two seasons by Mr. J. E. Dodson's 
striking performance of its leading part, is offered for amateur performance 
at a royalty of ten dollars. All the parts are strong and exceptionally 
well contrasted. Of especial interest to Hebrew societies from its able and 
sympathetic presentment of a man of their race. 
Price, JO cents 

CHARACTERS 

T/tg Cotsw old Family The Jacobson Family 

Sir John Cotswold, baronet. Sir Isaac Jacobson, M. P« 

Margaret, his wife. Rebecca, his wife. 

Ulrica, his daughter. Esther, his daughter. 

Cecil, his son. Adrian, his son. 

ViNiNG, his servant. Maximilian, his servant. 

Capt. the Hon. Clive Trevor. Walter Lewis, musical agent, 

SYNOPSIS 
ACT I 
Scene. — Morning room in Sir John Cotswold' s house in the 
Cotswold Park Estate, Kensington, London. 

ACTH 
Scene. — Drawing-room in Sir Isaac Jacobson' s house. Next 
Door. The same afternoon. 

ACT III 
Scene.— Same as Act I. Three days later. 



MARRYING BELINDA 

A Farce in One Act 

By Grace Cooke Strong 

Four males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, an easy interior. 
Plays thirty minutes. An easy and entertaining little play exactly suited 
for amateur acting in schools or elsewhere. Just the sort of thing half 
way between farce and comedy that is best liked. Well recommended. 
Price, IS cents 



DEC 13 191? 



New Plays 



MR. EASYMAN'S NIECE 

A Farcical Comedy in Four Acts 

B^ Belle Marshall Locke 

Six males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two interiors and 
one easy exterior that may be played indoors if desired. Plays a full even- 
ing. A clever and vivacious play, full of fun and action. Mr. Easyman'a 
fad of spiritualism leads him into a difficulty that is a source of endlesj 
amusement to the audience. Irish and old maid comedy parts. Can bt 
recommended. 

Price, 2^ cents 

CHARACTERS 

Mr. Stephen Eastman, a wealthy Mr. Sharpe, a detective, 

broker. Miss Judith Carroll, a maidei 

Mr. Carew Carlton, >^/j nephew. aunt. 
Mr. Tom Ashleigh. Mrs. Easyman, ) her 

Jackson, a servant. Miss Bessie Carroll, J nieces^ 

Michael Flynn. Desdemona, the ghost, 

A PAIR OF BURGLARS 

By Byron P, Glenn 

Two males, two females. One act. Costumes modern ; scenery, an 
easy interior. Plays half an hour. A brisk little curtain raiser of the 
** vaudeville " type, moving all the time. Easy and effective ; all the parts 
young people and well-dressed. Strongly recommended. 

Price f TJ cents 



DANE'S DRESS-SUIT CASE 

By Robert C. V, Meyers 

Two males, one female. One act. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy 
interior. Plays fifteen minutes. An excellent short play to fill out a bill 
or to fill in an intermission. All action and lots of fun. All parts young 
ftnd well-dressed. 

Price, J§ cents 



B. UJ. Pinero's Plays 

Price, 50 gents Gacb 



IVIin THANNFI Pl<vy in Four Acts. Six males, five females. 
*'***^'^**/\lllll-iLi Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hours. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH 2S?"'iJi^i?E 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

THF PROFITPATF Playin Four Acts. Seven males, five 
1 "■'^ '^ IVVrr LilUM 1 £1 females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF QPHnni MfQTPlCQQ Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
inEi OV^nWULilrliiJlIVEiOiJ seven females. Costumes, mod- 
ex'n; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY ^uri^^^Xi 

fehiales. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

QWFFT T AVFlSinFR Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
O TT £i£i 1 Lii\ V £il^l^£<lV four feanales. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

TU17 TUITMnCDUni T Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
in£i inUili/EiIVDULl nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TTMFQ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
1 riCi i lluEiiJ Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

THP WFAlfFP QFY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
I rlEi W EiaIvEiIv 0£iA eight females. Costumes, modern ; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE iJJ'r.SilMoJ^le^i;:" 

Costumes, modern; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

l^alter ?|. Pafeer & Companp 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



3^ecettt ^opulai 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

SI!' 




TBE AWAKENING 



HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNC 8 



AN IDEAL HUSBAND 



Play in Four Acts. By C. H. Chambers. 

Four males, six females. Scenery, not diffi- 
cult, clii«ifly interiors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
Price, 50 Cents. 

TBE FRUITS OF ENLIGHTENMENT g-T-ilL'"™!"",^,;-.';: 

one males, eleven females. Scenery, c? iracteristic interiors ; cos- 
tumes, modern. Plays a full eveni g. ..leeommended for reading 
cltibs. Price, 35 Cents. 

Farce in Three Acts. By 
K. Marshall. Ten 

males, three females. Cc^stumes, modern ; scenery, one interior. 

Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. By Oscak Wilde. 

Nine males,*six females. Costumes, mod- 
ern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights 
reserved. Sold fur reading. Price, 50 Cents. 

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST iT." iy 1^!^ 

Wilde. Five males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenes, two 
interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re- 
served. Price, 50 Cents. 

LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN 'i^'^'-^Z'^^lS^i^ 

males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full 
evening. Acting rights reserved.. Price, 50 Cents. 

Play in Four Acts. By Clyde Fitch. Fifteen 
males, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth 
century in Americ^i. Scenery, fovir interiors and two exteriors. Act- 
ing rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy.iu Three Acts. By M. B. HoRX?:. 

Six male.>>, four females. Scenery, two 
interiors ; costumes, modern. Professional stage rights reserved. 
Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

THE TYRANNY OF TEARS SlTl^JS.'^^^X'e S: 

males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior; costumes, modern. 
Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. By 
Us< .A.R VViLDE. Eight males, 
seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors and an 
exterior. Plays a full evening. Stage rights reserved. Offered lor 
reading only. Price, 50 Cents. 



NATHAN HALE 



TBE OTBER FELLOW 



A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walttv l^. isafitv & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



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